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 am below everything.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

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

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

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

1

its performative

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

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

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.

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

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.

Style

brb i will read and reply sincerely

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

i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

autonomy of learning

so at the end

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

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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.