yeah
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
"Put a blanket."
like magnets
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13
This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.
yeah
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
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.
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.
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
its good short few pages
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos
but really the thing should be autonomous
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
theres a kind of a cowardice to generative art that i want to avoid though. i want the kind of relationship to this thing that a game designer has to a game engine
A roll of 50s is one of the items he dumps onto my table during the search. Of course it is. He asks if I'm a delivery boy or a setter or this or that diamond related job. I keep saying no, I'm enjoying hearing all of these new words. Eventually I tell him that I work in film, which is kind of true. He asks where I'm filming. I'm not filming. He tells me that I can't be that good at it then. He then tells me that he made a film once, in the 80s. It was called Pimlico Rats.
i have read not even 1 book
sorry i am texting like a slav
hiding from the rain
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.
i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.