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.

so an active mazelike process

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

bro i read nothing in my life

have you read

so at the end

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

that looks like my instagram account