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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
really i want the internet
i am quite illiterate on producing technology
its performative
plato
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
or never left
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
but really the thing should be autonomous
the site i am dreaming
so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged
The Hatton geezer (fuck off) is emptying his pockets, searching for the silver rizlas he apparently has. He refuses to take one of mine (also silver) because the tobacco I'm giving him is already too much to ask. He tells me about the guy who can do 50g of Golden Virginia for a good price, the guy who every other man over 50 knows. I'm not interested.
idk
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
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.
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.
The studio designs some piece of media to perpetuate the marketable concept of Real London, while the real London is hollowed out by hollow bankers or whatever. Not pulling on that thread. But the yuppies don't mind because they're free to iterate on Real London without any competition from real London because it's too concerned with its slow eradication. And there's nice flats to live in now or whatever. The yuppies can begin to inhabit their Real London.
Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?