December 2025

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

IWGD

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

it is hopeful

so an active mazelike process

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

so the method has to be autonomous

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

not their contents

you cannot feed someone truth

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

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

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

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

It Will Get Lighter

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

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

It Will Get Lighter

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

It Will Get Lighter

but really the thing should be autonomous

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

The studio designs some piece of media to perpetuate the marketable concept of Real London, while the real London is hollowed out by hollow bankers or whatever. Not pulling on that thread. But the yuppies don't mind because they're free to iterate on Real London without any competition from real London because it's too concerned with its slow eradication. And there's nice flats to live in now or whatever. The yuppies can begin to inhabit their Real London.

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

wait what is that