but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time

The only real Londoner remaining is old, bitter, kept around for entertainment, defined by tropes from 30+ years ago. They play gangsters in films, or they work in a pie and mash shop, or they go on Business Insider's YouTube channel to tell you about their crimes. And they somehow still find the time to spend all day hanging about cafes and pubs for you to bump into, to remind you of Real London.

barren land

its good

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.

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

is everyoneback on tumblr now

idk

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

i have read not even 1 book

that looks like my instagram account

But seriously, thank you, Jack, for telling me that I could submit this to a high-level literary magazine or creative nonfiction outlet with some minor tweaks. I don't think I will do that.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

send your tumblr

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

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

but i respect your search

ion