i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

like first name

what do you think my name is

no like which do people call me

we need to be deconstructing our identities

feel you

bro i read nothing in my life

yeah

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

your feed looks like my tumblr

was it worth it

and the fake qualifier

isaac newton

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

fw

Style

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

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

barren land

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.

Today I felt like starting

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.

i really havent

in a post. I want to be remembered

Mon, 01 Dec 2025 23:38:15

no longer writing in the third person

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.

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

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

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.