Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.

wait what is that

yeah

your feed looks like my tumblr

...

feel you

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

It Will Get Lighter

ahnaf abrar

13, H, grate

2 (actually index). two is company

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

that looks like my instagram account

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

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'm sat out the front of a cafe in Hatton Garden. I've just eaten a brie and bacon panini, and I'm rolling a cigarette. Feeling very London. An old man comes up to me and asks for a roll-up. I oblige.

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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

1

The studio designs some piece of media to perpetuate the marketable concept of Real London, while the real London is hollowed out by hollow bankers or whatever. Not pulling on that thread. But the yuppies don't mind because they're free to iterate on Real London without any competition from real London because it's too concerned with its slow eradication. And there's nice flats to live in now or whatever. The yuppies can begin to inhabit their Real London.

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

⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

He was cast as the guy who gets picked up and thrown out of the poker game to set the scene before the main characters arrive. Out of Real London and into real London, a discarded prop, at this party, chatting to me.

Thank you, Jack

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

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.