i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then
The old failed actor genuinely believed this girl was of a lesser race. He believed she shouldn't be talking with me, shouldn't be here at this party, shouldn't be here in this country. He wanted a white England. I didn't really challenge him on it. Sometimes I justify it with thoughts like I was drunk, or baffled, or it isn't an argument I'll win, or he can't hear me anyway, or whatever. I didn't argue with him. I just cut off his rant and left with a pathetic "In a bit."
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
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
and the fake qualifier
Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.
ahnaf abrar
idk
like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them
abrar?
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.i really havent
its good short few pages
i want to do that too
is this you as well
sorry i am texting like a slav
isaac
like first name
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03
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.