part of an old note. It will get lighter.

kind of mythopoesis

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

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

1

. way too specific.

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

not so on: yvf(wthw)

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

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.

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

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.

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

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

It's loud and he's gone deaf in one ear, so I don't think he's really hearing anything I'm trying to say. We're both pretty drunk too. It's making for a kind of surreal interactive Business Insider YouTube video of a conversation. He talks, waits for my response, sees my mouth moving but doesn't hear my words, then he imagines something in their place, and replies to that. At least I don't really have to do anything but drink and mime and listen to a lot of bullshit fake gangster talk, being an actor, boxing, the old days, blah blah blah.

it is hopeful

Another Frenchman pushes through the crowd to join him. He's an events organiser who I'd met earlier, and he's holding a large box wrapped in a bin bag. They're the fireworks he'd smuggled in from France the night before. They're Industrial Grade, whatever that means for fireworks.

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

autonomy of learning

is everyoneback on tumblr now

as in

which magnetises chains of pins

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

no longer writing in the third person

yeah

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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

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

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