She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.

barren land

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people

send link

your feed looks like my tumblr

i love it here

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

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

god being the centre magnet

is everyoneback on tumblr now

...

that looks like my instagram account

no like which do people call me

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

...

isaac newton

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.

i was tempted to lie about my name

it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!

wait what is that

plato

i understand

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

isaac

i want to do that too

Pimlico Rats

was it worth it

yeah

not so on: yvf(wthw)