in a post. I want to be remembered
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50
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."
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.
it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful
Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.is everyoneback on tumblr now
have you read
lol yea
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
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.
not so on: yvf(wthw)
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13
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.
that looks like my instagram account
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.
so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged
Thank you, Jack
amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet