Thank you, Jack

Rain, starting

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

hiding from the rain

She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.

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

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

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

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


you have a beautiful account btw

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

but i respect your search

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

Worse Lift

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

really i want the internet

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

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

kind of mythopoesis

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Picture

no longer writing in the third person

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

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.