but i respect your search

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

really i want the internet

not their contents

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

its performative

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

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

you cannot feed someone truth

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

"Put a blanket."

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

as in

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

magnetisation/form

in a post. I want to be remembered

The Hatton geezer (fuck off) is emptying his pockets, searching for the silver rizlas he apparently has. He refuses to take one of mine (also silver) because the tobacco I'm giving him is already too much to ask. He tells me about the guy who can do 50g of Golden Virginia for a good price, the guy who every other man over 50 knows. I'm not interested.

It's loud and he's gone deaf in one ear, so I don't think he's really hearing anything I'm trying to say. We're both pretty drunk too. It's making for a kind of surreal interactive Business Insider YouTube video of a conversation. He talks, waits for my response, sees my mouth moving but doesn't hear my words, then he imagines something in their place, and replies to that. At least I don't really have to do anything but drink and mime and listen to a lot of bullshit fake gangster talk, being an actor, boxing, the old days, blah blah blah.

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

I'm sat out the front of a cafe in Hatton Garden. I've just eaten a brie and bacon panini, and I'm rolling a cigarette. Feeling very London. An old man comes up to me and asks for a roll-up. I oblige.

all that is to say

...

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

bro i read nothing in my life

The Hatton geezer (fuck off) reminds me of this old failed actor who I'd met at a party a few years ago, another man out of time and out of place. This actor had scored a minor role in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and never really let go of it, had gone on to build his whole identity around it. I can't really blame him.

⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️

the site i am dreaming