The Hatton geezer (fuck off) is emptying his pockets, searching for the silver rizlas he apparently has. He refuses to take one of mine (also silver) because the tobacco I'm giving him is already too much to ask. He tells me about the guy who can do 50g of Golden Virginia for a good price, the guy who every other man over 50 knows. I'm not interested.

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

you cannot feed someone truth

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

Today I felt like starting

1

Worse Lift

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

no longer writing in the third person

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

as in

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

13, H, grate

        13       |
                |
                |
            H   |
                |
                |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

you have a beautiful account btw

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

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

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.