currently

hello reader,

its good

i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

yeah

the site i am dreaming

which magnetises chains of pins

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.

i love it here

Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

...

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

barren land

yeah

I Write Goodbye Letter

not so on: yvf(wthw)

plato

feel you

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

Today I felt like starting

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

really i want the internet

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

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.

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

autonomy of learning