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."

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

so at the end

Picture

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

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.

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

its performative

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

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

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

It Will Get Lighter

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

13, H, grate

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

hiding from the rain

no longer writing in the third person

but i respect your search

"Put a blanket."

Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

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

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

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

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.

1

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

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.