He went in there with a camera to film it before he moved out of the building. He didn't think anyone would believe the story if he didn't have proof.

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged


no longer writing in the third person


really i want the internet

its performative

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

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



Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

brb i will read and reply sincerely

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

Mon, 01 Dec 2025 23:38:15

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

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.


Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️