i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
My inability to confront the old racist failed actor is distracting me. I decide not to tell her about it.
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
Better Lift
i want to do that too
which magnetises chains of pins
whats your name?
so magnetisation means the divine spirit acting thru u endowing you with its qualities
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.
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book
...
i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things
The old failed actor genuinely believed this girl was of a lesser race. He believed she shouldn't be talking with me, shouldn't be here at this party, shouldn't be here in this country. He wanted a white England. I didn't really challenge him on it. Sometimes I justify it with thoughts like I was drunk, or baffled, or it isn't an argument I'll win, or he can't hear me anyway, or whatever. I didn't argue with him. I just cut off his rant and left with a pathetic "In a bit."
have you read
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.