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.

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

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

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

whats your name?

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