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.

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

really i want the internet

not their contents

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

Today I felt like starting

but i respect your search

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

mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation

13, H, grate

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

so the method has to be autonomous

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

brb i will read and reply sincerely

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

send link

its good

thank you

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people

lol yea