Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.

Worse Lift

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

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

...

hello reader,

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

hiding from the rain

Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:

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.

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

But seriously, thank you, Jack, for telling me that I could submit this to a high-level literary magazine or creative nonfiction outlet with some minor tweaks. I don't think I will do that.

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

its performative

2 (actually index). two is company

And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

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.

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.

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

theres a kind of a cowardice to generative art that i want to avoid though. i want the kind of relationship to this thing that a game designer has to a game engine