nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
the site i am dreaming
...
...
December 2025
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.
and the fake qualifier
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
what do you think my name is
we need to be deconstructing our identities
to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
magnetisation/form
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
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
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
have you read
like magnets
isaac
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
you have a beautiful account btw
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.