that looks like my instagram account

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.

yeah

hello reader,

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

wait what is that

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 guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

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

not so on: yvf(wthw)

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

idk

I Write Goodbye Letter

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

we need to be deconstructing our identities

...

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

i want to do that too

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation

i have read not even 1 book

the site i am dreaming

Worse Lift

hiding from the rain