I imagine that some lab-grown 29-year-old from Woking with a mind honed to identify individuals who fit the profile of Real Londoner (as conceived of by 50 opinion-polled racist builders and their wives in the Midlands) picks a stubborn local who can still somehow afford to live here and passes him along to some creative studio.

i see a website

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

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.

Style


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.

Better Lift

Rain, starting

Worse Lift

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

send link

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is everyoneback on tumblr now

i understand

stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time

send your tumblr

its good

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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.

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

its good short few pages

i dont understand magnetisation

think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now


no i haven't really read anything

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

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