hello reader,

13, H, grate

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

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.

no longer writing in the third person

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

1

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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

Today I felt like starting


Picture

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

currently

kind of mythopoesis

Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?

Worse Lift

so the method has to be autonomous

as in



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.

i am quite illiterate on producing technology



somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful


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.

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