hello reader,

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.


way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

ion

confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.

is everyoneback on tumblr now

not so on: yvf(wthw)

it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!

yeah

It's loud and he's gone deaf in one ear, so I don't think he's really hearing anything I'm trying to say. We're both pretty drunk too. It's making for a kind of surreal interactive Business Insider YouTube video of a conversation. He talks, waits for my response, sees my mouth moving but doesn't hear my words, then he imagines something in their place, and replies to that. At least I don't really have to do anything but drink and mime and listen to a lot of bullshit fake gangster talk, being an actor, boxing, the old days, blah blah blah.

⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️

which magnetises chains of pins


2 (actually index). two is company

December 2025

the site i am dreaming

It Will Get Lighter

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

. way too specific.

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

there is a distinction between western-modern pedagogical systems that's like text-based as in a legal method but there is an idea of "pathshala" or "guru shissho"/ "porompora" i mean how masters relayed knowledge to the student by (oral) transmission often by memorising books. so what was taught was always interactive. knowledge was interactive, you spoke with people rather than read texts.


I Write Goodbye Letter

The old failed actor genuinely believed this girl was of a lesser race. He believed she shouldn't be talking with me, shouldn't be here at this party, shouldn't be here in this country. He wanted a white England. I didn't really challenge him on it. Sometimes I justify it with thoughts like I was drunk, or baffled, or it isn't an argument I'll win, or he can't hear me anyway, or whatever. I didn't argue with him. I just cut off his rant and left with a pathetic "In a bit."

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03


Slug

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

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch