it is hopeful
its good short few pages
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
Today I felt like starting
like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them
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
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
as in
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.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 heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
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
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
He was a proper old-fashioned London geezer (cringe word, hate it, can't think of a better one, worst of all it's the correct word), kind of East Endy, kind of Real London, the kind you don't really meet but if you do it always feels like an uncanny immersive theatre experience. They're anachronistic. They only belong in the London collectively imagined by people who don't spend any time in it.
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
I am below everything.
but really the thing should be autonomous
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.
It's loud and he's gone deaf in one ear, so I don't think he's really hearing anything I'm trying to say. We're both pretty drunk too. It's making for a kind of surreal interactive Business Insider YouTube video of a conversation. He talks, waits for my response, sees my mouth moving but doesn't hear my words, then he imagines something in their place, and replies to that. At least I don't really have to do anything but drink and mime and listen to a lot of bullshit fake gangster talk, being an actor, boxing, the old days, blah blah blah.
My inability to confront the old racist failed actor is distracting me. I decide not to tell her about it.