and the fake qualifier


Worse Lift

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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

i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

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

Lift Analysis

As I'm trying to tell my Korean colleague / fresh meat that this is abnormal, that most people in England aren't like this, the host of the party emerges from the bathroom to a roar of laughter and applause. He's a fat middle aged Frenchman and he's changed into traditional Indian dress and a turban. He looks fucking ridiculous. I try to back away, to avoid the inevitable photo of me in this moment that will one day appear to ruin my life, but everyone is crowding around, trapping me in the middle 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.

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

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.

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

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

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

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

Lift Analysis

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.

Thank you, Jack

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.