somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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

your feed looks like my tumblr

bro i read nothing in my life

i really havent

fw

propensity within someone

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

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

i was tempted to lie about my name

as in

bro i read nothing in my life

i have read not even 1 book

and the fake qualifier

part of an old note. It will get lighter.
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.

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

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.

what do you think my name is

send your tumblr

yeah

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

so magnetisation means the divine spirit acting thru u endowing you with its qualities

Thank you, Jack

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.

in a post. I want to be remembered

you cannot feed someone truth

It Will Get Lighter

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away