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.

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

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

ahnaf abrar

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

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

feel you

i was tempted to lie about my name

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

My inability to confront the old racist failed actor is distracting me. I decide not to tell her about it.

like first name

the site i am dreaming

send your tumblr

⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️

i love it here

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 catch him on his way to the bar, telling him about this old racist failed actor that I'm avoiding. That I'm failing to confront. I get the sense he's avoiding people too. We get our drinks and find a corner. We chat for a bit. He's managing just fine.

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

sorry i am texting like a slav

i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things

was it worth it

idk

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

isaac