magnetises a pin

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

is everyoneback on tumblr now

i love it here

so magnetisation means the divine spirit acting thru u endowing you with its qualities

plato

no like which do people call me

i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason

...


i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

whats your name?

like first name

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

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

its good

which magnetises chains of pins

It Will Get Lighter

abrar?

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

The old failed actor genuinely believed this girl was of a lesser race. He believed she shouldn't be talking with me, shouldn't be here at this party, shouldn't be here in this country. He wanted a white England. I didn't really challenge him on it. Sometimes I justify it with thoughts like I was drunk, or baffled, or it isn't an argument I'll win, or he can't hear me anyway, or whatever. I didn't argue with him. I just cut off his rant and left with a pathetic "In a bit."

A procession forms behind the French Raj and his fireworks bearer as they head out the door. I've lost my Korean colleague / fresh meat in the chaos. I'm sure he'll be able to fend for himself. They have mandatory military service in Korea.

yeah

Another Frenchman pushes through the crowd to join him. He's an events organiser who I'd met earlier, and he's holding a large box wrapped in a bin bag. They're the fireworks he'd smuggled in from France the night before. They're Industrial Grade, whatever that means for fireworks.

After I get away from the old racist failed actor, I go to see my Korean colleague. He's just arrived in London and I want to see how he's handling the party. We'd been invited as fresh meat for some of the older, gayer attendees. We aren't aware of that.

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.


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

Worse Lift

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.