We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river. I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the dim silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank. They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
propensity within someone
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50
a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext
so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged
Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03
to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
so the method has to be autonomous
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
i was tempted to lie about my name
sorry i am texting like a slav
like magnets
abrar?
bro i read nothing in my life
we need to be deconstructing our identities
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13
no like which do people call me
its good
no i haven't really read anything
i really havent
whats your name?