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.
what do you mean
i was tempted to lie about my name
stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time
its good
no i haven't really read anything
god being the centre magnet
yeah
have you read
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
magnetises a pin
whats your name?
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.ion
mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation
which magnetises chains of pins
isaac
She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
its good