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.

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

13, H, grate

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

i am quite illiterate on producing technology


plato

so magnetisation means the divine spirit acting thru u endowing you with its qualities

idk

its good short few pages

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

what do you mean

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

kind of mythopoesis

yeah

Thank you, Jack

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people

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

its good

so the method has to be autonomous

Better Lift

sorry i am texting like a slav

send your tumblr

Style

propensity within someone

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

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.

or never left

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

was it worth it

really i want the internet