Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

thank you

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

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

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

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

think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

its good

December 2025

was it worth it

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

2 (actually index). two is company

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

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

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

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

I'm getting bored and he can tell, so he shifts the topic towards me. He tells me he'd spotted me chatting to a girl earlier, a black girl, and asks what I thought of her, if I liked her. I mimed affirmatively.

no like which do people call me

He was cast as the guy who gets picked up and thrown out of the poker game to set the scene before the main characters arrive. Out of Real London and into real London, a discarded prop, at this party, chatting to me.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

what do you think my name is

Thank you, Jack

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