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.

i have read not even 1 book

i was tempted to lie about my name

i understand

thank you

idk

hello reader,

I'm sat out the front of a cafe in Hatton Garden. I've just eaten a brie and bacon panini, and I'm rolling a cigarette. Feeling very London. An old man comes up to me and asks for a roll-up. I oblige.

whats your name?

plato

that looks like my instagram account

isaac

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.

lol yea

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is everyoneback on tumblr now

your feed looks like my tumblr

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people

or never left

so magnetisation means the divine spirit acting thru u endowing you with its qualities

ahnaf abrar

bro i read nothing in my life

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

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2 (actually index). two is company

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