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i understand

i really havent

thank you

i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason

i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

the site i am dreaming

your feed looks like my tumblr

its good

its good short few pages

It Will Get Lighter

barren land

what do you mean

wait what is that

hello reader,

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

2 (actually index). two is company

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

we need to be deconstructing our identities

yeah

so at the end

all that is to say

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

As we're stood there I notice a middle-aged woman staring at us across the room. I'm trying to catch her gaze, but its kind of vacant. I guess she sees me looking and considers it to be an invitation. She floats over to us in this strange dazed way, and on the approach I realise she's staring at (through?) my Korean colleague / fresh meat. She's saying wow, wow, wow. She seems genuinely so delighted, so shocked, so elated.

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.

He was a proper old-fashioned London geezer (cringe word, hate it, can't think of a better one, worst of all it's the correct word), kind of East Endy, kind of Real London, the kind you don't really meet but if you do it always feels like an uncanny immersive theatre experience. They're anachronistic. They only belong in the London collectively imagined by people who don't spend any time in it.

Thank you, Jack

so an active mazelike process

and the fake qualifier