with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
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.
yeah
no like which do people call me
its good
December 2025
ion
thank you
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
is everyoneback on tumblr now
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
theres a kind of a cowardice to generative art that i want to avoid though. i want the kind of relationship to this thing that a game designer has to a game engine
god "possessing" artists "possessing" people
magnetisation basically means the induction of divine form unto you
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
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.