Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

in a post. I want to be remembered

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

really i want the internet

i was tempted to lie about my name

what do you mean

we need to be deconstructing our identities

yeah

feel you

i have read not even 1 book

stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time

plato

like first name

i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

and the fake qualifier

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

but i respect your search

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

no like which do people call me

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

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Thank you for telling me that I'm failing to see how I'm reproducing the dynamics I'm trying to critique by only describing my Korean colleague / fresh meat and the black girl in relation to others and myself.

its good

fw

much more tactility

i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

A procession forms behind the French Raj and his fireworks bearer as they head out the door. I've lost my Korean colleague / fresh meat in the chaos. I'm sure he'll be able to fend for himself. They have mandatory military service in Korea.

We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river. I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the dim silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank. They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

have you read

I catch him on his way to the bar, telling him about this old racist failed actor that I'm avoiding. That I'm failing to confront. I get the sense he's avoiding people too. We get our drinks and find a corner. We chat for a bit. He's managing just fine.