whats your name?
send link
December 2025
I catch him on his way to the bar, telling him about this old racist failed actor that I'm avoiding. That I'm failing to confront. I get the sense he's avoiding people too. We get our drinks and find a corner. We chat for a bit. He's managing just fine.
wait what is that
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.
My inability to confront the old racist failed actor is distracting me. I decide not to tell her about it.
way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it
i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then
He went in there with a camera to film it before he moved out of the building. He didn't think anyone would believe the story if he didn't have proof.
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.
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59
A roll of 50s is one of the items he dumps onto my table during the search. Of course it is. He asks if I'm a delivery boy or a setter or this or that diamond related job. I keep saying no, I'm enjoying hearing all of these new words. Eventually I tell him that I work in film, which is kind of true. He asks where I'm filming. I'm not filming. He tells me that I can't be that good at it then. He then tells me that he made a film once, in the 80s. It was called Pimlico Rats.
i am quite illiterate on producing technology
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
yeah
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.
Today I felt like starting
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me
okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models
its performative
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