wait what is that

hiding from the rain

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

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

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

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

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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.

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Can I see

propensity within someone

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

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

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

Thank you, Jack

brb i will read and reply sincerely

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

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

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 was about a crazy lady who lived above his flat in Pimlico. She would let pigeons into her flat so she could feed them. Apparently she didn't want her presence in the flat to interfere with the natural behaviour of the pigeons, so she would let them nest and shit in there and she wouldn't clean it up, because it wasn't natural to do so. The pigeons would die, but apart from the smell and the sludge and the gas, the corpses weren't really a problem. It was the rats that came to eat them. The rats would eat the rotting pigeon corpses mixed in with the rotting pigeon shit and they would get ill and die too. New rats that came through wouldn't mind though, and they'd start to eat the mass, only to get sick and die in it later on. The population grew steadily as more pigeons and rats came from in the cold, to live naturally. They fed the mass further.

you have a beautiful account btw

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.

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