currently

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

"Put a blanket."

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

Can I see

13, H, grate

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

Thank you, Jack

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

brb i will read and reply sincerely

The studio designs some piece of media to perpetuate the marketable concept of Real London, while the real London is hollowed out by hollow bankers or whatever. Not pulling on that thread. But the yuppies don't mind because they're free to iterate on Real London without any competition from real London because it's too concerned with its slow eradication. And there's nice flats to live in now or whatever. The yuppies can begin to inhabit their Real London.

fw

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

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.

idk

is everyoneback on tumblr now

i want to do that too

what do you mean

is this you as well

feel you

i dont understand magnetisation

Lift Analysis

Rain, starting

...

I am below everything.

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

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

magnetises a pin

god being the centre magnet


thank you

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.

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.