division of reality is straying away from it

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

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

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

not their contents

It Will Get Lighter

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

Mon, 01 Dec 2025 23:38:15

autonomy of learning

Actual born-Londoners aren't LARPing like this, they sold their shite family home for a million pounds and moved to Malaga years ago. They have their culture and they've taken it elsewhere.

its performative

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.

its good

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.

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

we can only engage in such a way

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

what do you mean

but i respect your search

magnetises a pin

The Hatton geezer (fuck off) reminds me of this old failed actor who I'd met at a party a few years ago, another man out of time and out of place. This actor had scored a minor role in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and never really let go of it, had gone on to build his whole identity around it. I can't really blame him.

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.

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.

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