something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

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.

all that is to say

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

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

but i respect your search

so an active mazelike process

⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️

what do you think my name is

in a post. I want to be remembered

isaac

brb i will read and reply sincerely

my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given

As we're stood there I notice a middle-aged woman staring at us across the room. I'm trying to catch her gaze, but its kind of vacant. I guess she sees me looking and considers it to be an invitation. She floats over to us in this strange dazed way, and on the approach I realise she's staring at (through?) my Korean colleague / fresh meat. She's saying wow, wow, wow. She seems genuinely so delighted, so shocked, so elated.

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

you have a beautiful account btw

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.

sorry i am texting like a slav

really i want the internet

And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.

It Will Get Lighter

much more tactility

i was tempted to lie about my name

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.

The old failed actor genuinely believed this girl was of a lesser race. He believed she shouldn't be talking with me, shouldn't be here at this party, shouldn't be here in this country. He wanted a white England. I didn't really challenge him on it. Sometimes I justify it with thoughts like I was drunk, or baffled, or it isn't an argument I'll win, or he can't hear me anyway, or whatever. I didn't argue with him. I just cut off his rant and left with a pathetic "In a bit."

mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation