or never left

its good short few pages

lol

which magnetises chains of pins

the site i am dreaming

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

fw

bro i read nothing in my life

i really havent

that looks like my instagram account

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

was it worth it

i understand

wait what is that

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.

It was about a crazy lady who lived above his flat in Pimlico. She would let pigeons into her flat so she could feed them. Apparently she didn't want her presence in the flat to interfere with the natural behaviour of the pigeons, so she would let them nest and shit in there and she wouldn't clean it up, because it wasn't natural to do so. The pigeons would die, but apart from the smell and the sludge and the gas, the corpses weren't really a problem. It was the rats that came to eat them. The rats would eat the rotting pigeon corpses mixed in with the rotting pigeon shit and they would get ill and die too. New rats that came through wouldn't mind though, and they'd start to eat the mass, only to get sick and die in it later on. The population grew steadily as more pigeons and rats came from in the cold, to live naturally. They fed the mass further.

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

My inability to confront the old racist failed actor is distracting me. I decide not to tell her about it.

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

what do you think my name is

magnetises a pin

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

there is a distinction between western-modern pedagogical systems that's like text-based as in a legal method but there is an idea of "pathshala" or "guru shissho"/ "porompora" i mean how masters relayed knowledge to the student by (oral) transmission often by memorising books. so what was taught was always interactive. knowledge was interactive, you spoke with people rather than read texts.

magnetisation basically means the induction of divine form unto you

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch