There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

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.

we need to be deconstructing our identities

plato

and the fake qualifier

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

like first name

fw

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

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

its good short few pages

isaac newton

isaac

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

December 2025

and the fake qualifier

feel you

magnetises a pin

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

Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:

like magnets

bro i read nothing in my life

much more tactility

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

what do you think my name is

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

propensity within someone

its performative

in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation

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We look out over the river to a block of luxury flats built on the site of some old docks. It would be nice to live right there. Yes. The conversation drifts to the pleasantness of warm lighting and whether anyone needs a smart home. I interrupt her to make a joke about the French Raj as he runs up the causeway. We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.

idk