amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

and the fake qualifier

Can I see

but i respect your search

ahnaf abrar

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf


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

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

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

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

1

. way too specific.

2 (actually index). two is company

Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:

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

Mon, 01 Dec 2025 23:38:15

theres a kind of a cowardice to generative art that i want to avoid though. i want the kind of relationship to this thing that a game designer has to a game engine

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

The Hatton geezer (fuck off) reminds me of this old failed actor who I'd met at a party a few years ago, another man out of time and out of place. This actor had scored a minor role in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and never really let go of it, had gone on to build his whole identity around it. I can't really blame him.

Actual born-Londoners aren't LARPing like this, they sold their shite family home for a million pounds and moved to Malaga years ago. They have their culture and they've taken it elsewhere.

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

kind of mythopoesis

Lift Analysis

I Write Goodbye Letter

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.