fw
i was tempted to lie about my name
its good
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
send link
that looks like my instagram account
is everyoneback on tumblr now
i really havent
idk
Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:
the site i am dreaming
hello reader,
it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
isaac newton
wait what is that
no i haven't really read anything
bro i read nothing in my life
He went in there with a camera to film it before he moved out of the building. He didn't think anyone would believe the story if he didn't have proof.
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
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.
We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river. I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the dim silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank. They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
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.
like magnets
like first name
what do you think my name is
mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation
its performative
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."
really i want the internet
As I'm trying to tell my Korean colleague / fresh meat that this is abnormal, that most people in England aren't like this, the host of the party emerges from the bathroom to a roar of laughter and applause. He's a fat middle aged Frenchman and he's changed into traditional Indian dress and a turban. He looks fucking ridiculous. I try to back away, to avoid the inevitable photo of me in this moment that will one day appear to ruin my life, but everyone is crowding around, trapping me in the middle of it.