The Hatton geezer (fuck off) is emptying his pockets, searching for the silver rizlas he apparently has. He refuses to take one of mine (also silver) because the tobacco I'm giving him is already too much to ask. He tells me about the guy who can do 50g of Golden Virginia for a good price, the guy who every other man over 50 knows. I'm not interested.
abrar?
i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then
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
and the fake qualifier
your feed looks like my tumblr
its good
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.
i did until you asked which kind of gave it away
send link
magnetises a pin
i really havent
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
Today I felt like starting
i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08
no like which do people call me
This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.