I imagine that some lab-grown 29-year-old from Woking with a mind honed to identify individuals who fit the profile of Real Londoner (as conceived of by 50 opinion-polled racist builders and their wives in the Midlands) picks a stubborn local who can still somehow afford to live here and passes him along to some creative studio.
kind of mythopoesis
Thank you, Jack
its good short few pages
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
brb i will read and reply sincerely
no like which do people call me
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
god "possessing" artists "possessing" people
I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.
I catch him on his way to the bar, telling him about this old racist failed actor that I'm avoiding. That I'm failing to confront. I get the sense he's avoiding people too. We get our drinks and find a corner. We chat for a bit. He's managing just fine.
think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now
barren land
plato
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl