Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl

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

lol yea

its good short few pages

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

was it worth it

send your tumblr

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

stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time

like first name

lol

i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things

idk

yeah

what do you mean

is everyoneback on tumblr now

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

ion

The studio designs some piece of media to perpetuate the marketable concept of Real London, while the real London is hollowed out by hollow bankers or whatever. Not pulling on that thread. But the yuppies don't mind because they're free to iterate on Real London without any competition from real London because it's too concerned with its slow eradication. And there's nice flats to live in now or whatever. The yuppies can begin to inhabit their Real London.

Lift Analysis

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.

its good

...

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

but i respect your search

as in

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

plato

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

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.