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.

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

i was tempted to lie about my name

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

bro i read nothing in my life

its performative

like first name

what do you think my name is

We look out over the river to a block of luxury flats built on the site of some old docks. It would be nice to live right there. Yes. The conversation drifts to the pleasantness of warm lighting and whether anyone needs a smart home. I interrupt her to make a joke about the French Raj as he runs up the causeway. We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.

we need to be deconstructing our identities

i want to do that too

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

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

abrar?

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

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