We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river. I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the dim silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank. They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.

ahnaf abrar

i really havent

that looks like my instagram account

what do you think my name is

i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason

no i haven't really read anything

its good

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

like magnets

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

December 2025

sorry i am texting like a slav

plato

like first name

no like which do people call me

the site i am dreaming

isaac

She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.

as in

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

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

Slug

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

send link

isaac newton

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

its good short few pages

"Put a blanket."

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

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