hello reader,
i really havent
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.
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
The studio designs some piece of media to perpetuate the marketable concept of Real London, while the real London is hollowed out by hollow bankers or whatever. Not pulling on that thread. But the yuppies don't mind because they're free to iterate on Real London without any competition from real London because it's too concerned with its slow eradication. And there's nice flats to live in now or whatever. The yuppies can begin to inhabit their Real London.
was it worth it
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
and the fake qualifier
December 2025
i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then
it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03
I am below everything.
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books