Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

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.

stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time

what do you think my name is

that looks like my instagram account

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

feel you

we need to be deconstructing our identities

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

ahnaf abrar

or never left

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

much more tactility

...

not their contents

lol yea

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I Write Goodbye Letter

...

not so on: yvf(wthw)

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

He was a proper old-fashioned London geezer (cringe word, hate it, can't think of a better one, worst of all it's the correct word), kind of East Endy, kind of Real London, the kind you don't really meet but if you do it always feels like an uncanny immersive theatre experience. They're anachronistic. They only belong in the London collectively imagined by people who don't spend any time in it.

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it