Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

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

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

Rain, starting

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

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged


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

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

13, H, grate

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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


the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

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

"Put a blanket."

a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext

Thank you, Jack

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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

as in

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

Actual born-Londoners aren't LARPing like this, they sold their shite family home for a million pounds and moved to Malaga years ago. They have their culture and they've taken it elsewhere.

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.

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!

propensity within someone