really i want the internet
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
i understand
whats your name?
its good short few pages
i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason
ahnaf abrar
i was tempted to lie about my name
plato
abrar?
no like which do people call me
i want to do that too
i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things
i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then
magnetises a pin
no i haven't really read anything
i have read not even 1 book
Overall meaning: The dream seems to explore vulnerability, unspoken emotion, and the tension between connection and isolation. It suggests you may be processing intense feelings of longing or missed opportunities, and your subconscious is guiding you to acknowledge, release, or transform them.
i love it here
The only real Londoner remaining is old, bitter, kept around for entertainment, defined by tropes from 30+ years ago. They play gangsters in films, or they work in a pie and mash shop, or they go on Business Insider's YouTube channel to tell you about their crimes. And they somehow still find the time to spend all day hanging about cafes and pubs for you to bump into, to remind you of Real London.
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
As we're stood there I notice a middle-aged woman staring at us across the room. I'm trying to catch her gaze, but its kind of vacant. I guess she sees me looking and considers it to be an invitation. She floats over to us in this strange dazed way, and on the approach I realise she's staring at (through?) my Korean colleague / fresh meat. She's saying wow, wow, wow. She seems genuinely so delighted, so shocked, so elated.
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
I catch him on his way to the bar, telling him about this old racist failed actor that I'm avoiding. That I'm failing to confront. I get the sense he's avoiding people too. We get our drinks and find a corner. We chat for a bit. He's managing just fine.
hello reader,