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

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

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

1

Worse Lift

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

propensity within someone

as in

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

feel you

we need to be deconstructing our identities

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

its performative

bro i read nothing in my life

Slug

and the fake qualifier

There is a pretty persistent ambient hate in England, a lot of people say vile shit about Muslims or immigrants or whatever, but in my experience most people aren't actual white supremacists. They have a black friend who they get a beer with. One of the good ones. Etc.

As I'm trying to tell my Korean colleague / fresh meat that this is abnormal, that most people in England aren't like this, the host of the party emerges from the bathroom to a roar of laughter and applause. He's a fat middle aged Frenchman and he's changed into traditional Indian dress and a turban. He looks fucking ridiculous. I try to back away, to avoid the inevitable photo of me in this moment that will one day appear to ruin my life, but everyone is crowding around, trapping me in the middle of it.

a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext

hiding from the rain

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.