i was tempted to lie about my name

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

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

all that is to say

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext

autonomy of learning

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

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

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

It Will Get Lighter

2 (actually index). two is company

⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️

He was a proper old-fashioned London geezer (cringe word, hate it, can't think of a better one, worst of all it's the correct word), kind of East Endy, kind of Real London, the kind you don't really meet but if you do it always feels like an uncanny immersive theatre experience. They're anachronistic. They only belong in the London collectively imagined by people who don't spend any time in it.

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

There is a pretty persistent ambient hate in England, a lot of people say vile shit about Muslims or immigrants or whatever, but in my experience most people aren't actual white supremacists. They have a black friend who they get a beer with. One of the good ones. Etc.

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.