so an active mazelike process

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

its performative

brb i will read and reply sincerely

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

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.

you have a beautiful account btw

propensity within someone

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

really i want the internet

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

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue

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.

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.

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.

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

yeah

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.

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

as in

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

lol yea

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

1

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

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