somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
plato
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
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
magnetisation/form
its performative
so the method has to be autonomous
propensity within someone
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
autonomy of learning
Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?
it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful
so at the end
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls
all that is to say
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them
the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
The Hatton geezer (fuck off) reminds me of this old failed actor who I'd met at a party a few years ago, another man out of time and out of place. This actor had scored a minor role in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and never really let go of it, had gone on to build his whole identity around it. I can't really blame him.