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 struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

It Will Get Lighter

Style

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

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.

Worse Lift

i see a website

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

it is hopeful

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

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

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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.

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

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

kind of mythopoesis

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

but i respect your search

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

in a post. I want to be remembered

fw