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.

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

you cannot feed someone truth

really i want the internet

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

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

propensity within someone

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

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

yes

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

Better Lift

Can I see

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

that looks like my instagram account

sorry i am texting like a slav

magnetises a pin

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

1

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

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.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.

god being the centre magnet