which magnetises chains of pins

your feed looks like my tumblr

send your tumblr

December 2025

and the fake qualifier

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

its good short few pages

i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things

plato

god being the centre magnet

its good

isaac newton

I am below everything.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

It Will Get Lighter

not their contents

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?

have you read

my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given

We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river. I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the dim silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank. They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.

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.

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

i have read not even 1 book

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

The Hatton geezer (fuck off) is emptying his pockets, searching for the silver rizlas he apparently has. He refuses to take one of mine (also silver) because the tobacco I'm giving him is already too much to ask. He tells me about the guy who can do 50g of Golden Virginia for a good price, the guy who every other man over 50 knows. I'm not interested.

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

but really the thing should be autonomous

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

what do you think my name is

13, H, grate

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