i really havent
wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me
is everyoneback on tumblr now
you cannot feed someone truth
that looks like my instagram account
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
ion
your feed looks like my tumblr
mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation
its good
hiding from the rain
lol
Thank you, Jack, for telling me I'm just as bad as the characters (actually they're people, if that means anything to you) that I'm writing about.
to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos
After I get away from the old racist failed actor, I go to see my Korean colleague. He's just arrived in London and I want to see how he's handling the party. We'd been invited as fresh meat for some of the older, gayer attendees. We aren't aware of that.
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."
Another Frenchman pushes through the crowd to join him. He's an events organiser who I'd met earlier, and he's holding a large box wrapped in a bin bag. They're the fireworks he'd smuggled in from France the night before. They're Industrial Grade, whatever that means for fireworks.
i love it here
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
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
...
idk
i dont understand magnetisation
She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
its good
whats your name?
He went in there with a camera to film it before he moved out of the building. He didn't think anyone would believe the story if he didn't have proof.
December 2025
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
It was about a crazy lady who lived above his flat in Pimlico. She would let pigeons into her flat so she could feed them. Apparently she didn't want her presence in the flat to interfere with the natural behaviour of the pigeons, so she would let them nest and shit in there and she wouldn't clean it up, because it wasn't natural to do so. The pigeons would die, but apart from the smell and the sludge and the gas, the corpses weren't really a problem. It was the rats that came to eat them. The rats would eat the rotting pigeon corpses mixed in with the rotting pigeon shit and they would get ill and die too. New rats that came through wouldn't mind though, and they'd start to eat the mass, only to get sick and die in it later on. The population grew steadily as more pigeons and rats came from in the cold, to live naturally. They fed the mass further.
send link
so the method has to be autonomous
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.