what do you think my name is
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.
send link
i want to do that too
...
Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.
i dont understand magnetisation
as in
have you read
what do you mean
so the method has to be autonomous
plato
ion
a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
its good
stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time
i really havent
is everyoneback on tumblr now
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
we need to be deconstructing our identities
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