"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
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.
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
Today I felt like starting
in a post. I want to be remembered
we can only engage in such a way
mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation
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
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.
but really the thing should be autonomous
was it worth it
yeah
you have a beautiful account btw
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13
I am below everything.
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
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.
send your tumblr
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
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.
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
"Put a blanket."
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine