Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

hiding from the rain

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

much more tactility

propensity within someone

I am below everything.

feel you

ahnaf abrar

My inability to confront the old racist failed actor is distracting me. I decide not to tell her about it.

There is a pretty persistent ambient hate in England, a lot of people say vile shit about Muslims or immigrants or whatever, but in my experience most people aren't actual white supremacists. They have a black friend who they get a beer with. One of the good ones. Etc.

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

"Put a blanket."

Rain, starting

we can only engage in such a way

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

barren land

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!

plato

think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

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

The only real Londoner remaining is old, bitter, kept around for entertainment, defined by tropes from 30+ years ago. They play gangsters in films, or they work in a pie and mash shop, or they go on Business Insider's YouTube channel to tell you about their crimes. And they somehow still find the time to spend all day hanging about cafes and pubs for you to bump into, to remind you of Real London.

so an active mazelike process

i dont understand magnetisation

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.