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.

i see a website

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 hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

1

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

so the method has to be autonomous

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

that looks like my instagram account

your feed looks like my tumblr

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

mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation

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.

isaac

i understand