barren land
i did until you asked which kind of gave it away
and the fake qualifier
feel you
was it worth it
magnetisation basically means the induction of divine form unto you
like first name
yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf
what do you think my name is
not so on: yvf(wthw)
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
Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:
i have read not even 1 book
Thank you, Jack
hello reader,
It's loud and he's gone deaf in one ear, so I don't think he's really hearing anything I'm trying to say. We're both pretty drunk too. It's making for a kind of surreal interactive Business Insider YouTube video of a conversation. He talks, waits for my response, sees my mouth moving but doesn't hear my words, then he imagines something in their place, and replies to that. At least I don't really have to do anything but drink and mime and listen to a lot of bullshit fake gangster talk, being an actor, boxing, the old days, blah blah blah.
The Hatton geezer (fuck off) reminds me of this old failed actor who I'd met at a party a few years ago, another man out of time and out of place. This actor had scored a minor role in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and never really let go of it, had gone on to build his whole identity around it. I can't really blame him.
bro i read nothing in my life
Mon, 01 Dec 2025 23:38:15
plato
your feed looks like my tumblr
its good
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.
god being the centre magnet
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.
yeah
My inability to confront the old racist failed actor is distracting me. I decide not to tell her about it.
i was tempted to lie about my name