but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17
I'm getting bored and he can tell, so he shifts the topic towards me. He tells me he'd spotted me chatting to a girl earlier, a black girl, and asks what I thought of her, if I liked her. I mimed affirmatively.
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
Thank you, Jack
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after
dusk
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
i really havent
was it worth it
that looks like my instagram account
its good
no longer writing in the third person
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
He was cast as the guy who gets picked up and thrown out of the poker game to set the scene before the main characters arrive. Out of Real London and into real London, a discarded prop, at this party, chatting to me.
Actual born-Londoners aren't LARPing like this, they sold their shite family home for a million pounds and moved to Malaga years ago. They have their culture and they've taken it elsewhere.