with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

is everyoneback on tumblr now

plato

send your tumblr

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

the site i am dreaming

isaac

isaac newton

was it worth it

your feed looks like my tumblr

god being the centre magnet

no i haven't really read anything

The Hatton geezer (fuck off) reminds me of this old failed actor who I'd met at a party a few years ago, another man out of time and out of place. This actor had scored a minor role in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and never really let go of it, had gone on to build his whole identity around it. I can't really blame him.

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

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.

propensity within someone

like magnets

you have a beautiful account btw

I imagine that some lab-grown 29-year-old from Woking with a mind honed to identify individuals who fit the profile of Real Londoner (as conceived of by 50 opinion-polled racist builders and their wives in the Midlands) picks a stubborn local who can still somehow afford to live here and passes him along to some creative studio.

sorry i am texting like a slav

lol

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch