This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

and the fake qualifier

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

that looks like my instagram account

Slug

send link

and the fake qualifier

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

have you read

the site i am dreaming

i was tempted to lie about my name

was it worth it

lol

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

your feed looks like my tumblr

...

The only real Londoner remaining is old, bitter, kept around for entertainment, defined by tropes from 30+ years ago. They play gangsters in films, or they work in a pie and mash shop, or they go on Business Insider's YouTube channel to tell you about their crimes. And they somehow still find the time to spend all day hanging about cafes and pubs for you to bump into, to remind you of Real London.

it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!

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

1

. way too specific.

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

Thank you, Jack

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.

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.

Pimlico Rats

Lift Analysis

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.

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos