kind of mythopoesis

the site i am dreaming

i see a website

what do you think my name is

i want to do that too

feel you

was it worth it

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

and the fake qualifier

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

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

i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

abrar?

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

in a post. I want to be remembered

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.

i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

send link

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.

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

magnetisation/form

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

I imagine that some lab-grown 29-year-old from Woking with a mind honed to identify individuals who fit the profile of Real Londoner (as conceived of by 50 opinion-polled racist builders and their wives in the Midlands) picks a stubborn local who can still somehow afford to live here and passes him along to some creative studio.

autonomy of learning

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