no like which do people call me

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

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

much more tactility

not their contents

Thank you, Jack

i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue

you have a beautiful account btw

magnetisation/form

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

all that is to say

kind of mythopoesis

so the method has to be autonomous

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

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

A roll of 50s is one of the items he dumps onto my table during the search. Of course it is. He asks if I'm a delivery boy or a setter or this or that diamond related job. I keep saying no, I'm enjoying hearing all of these new words. Eventually I tell him that I work in film, which is kind of true. He asks where I'm filming. I'm not filming. He tells me that I can't be that good at it then. He then tells me that he made a film once, in the 80s. It was called Pimlico Rats.

Lift Analysis

After I get away from the old racist failed actor, I go to see my Korean colleague. He's just arrived in London and I want to see how he's handling the party. We'd been invited as fresh meat for some of the older, gayer attendees. We aren't aware of that.

My inability to confront the old racist failed actor is distracting me. I decide not to tell her about it.

as in

Thank you, Jack, for telling me I'm just as bad as the characters (actually they're people, if that means anything to you) that I'm writing about.

Can I see

i see a website

He went in there with a camera to film it before he moved out of the building. He didn't think anyone would believe the story if he didn't have proof.

hello reader,

We look out over the river to a block of luxury flats built on the site of some old docks. It would be nice to live right there. Yes. The conversation drifts to the pleasantness of warm lighting and whether anyone needs a smart home. I interrupt her to make a joke about the French Raj as he runs up the causeway. We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.

2 (actually index). two is company

⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️

It was about a crazy lady who lived above his flat in Pimlico. She would let pigeons into her flat so she could feed them. Apparently she didn't want her presence in the flat to interfere with the natural behaviour of the pigeons, so she would let them nest and shit in there and she wouldn't clean it up, because it wasn't natural to do so. The pigeons would die, but apart from the smell and the sludge and the gas, the corpses weren't really a problem. It was the rats that came to eat them. The rats would eat the rotting pigeon corpses mixed in with the rotting pigeon shit and they would get ill and die too. New rats that came through wouldn't mind though, and they'd start to eat the mass, only to get sick and die in it later on. The population grew steadily as more pigeons and rats came from in the cold, to live naturally. They fed the mass further.