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

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

its performative

The only real Londoner remaining is old, bitter, kept around for entertainment, defined by tropes from 30+ years ago. They play gangsters in films, or they work in a pie and mash shop, or they go on Business Insider's YouTube channel to tell you about their crimes. And they somehow still find the time to spend all day hanging about cafes and pubs for you to bump into, to remind you of Real London.


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.

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

Thank you, Jack

not so on: yvf(wthw)

hello reader,


confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.

Mon, 01 Dec 2025 23:38:15

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

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.

lol yea

that looks like my instagram account

fw

idk

and the fake qualifier

I'm sat out the front of a cafe in Hatton Garden. I've just eaten a brie and bacon panini, and I'm rolling a cigarette. Feeling very London. An old man comes up to me and asks for a roll-up. I oblige.

lol

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

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

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


Overall meaning: The dream seems to explore vulnerability, unspoken emotion, and the tension between connection and isolation. It suggests you may be processing intense feelings of longing or missed opportunities, and your subconscious is guiding you to acknowledge, release, or transform them.

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

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