sorry i am texting like a slav

It was about a crazy lady who lived above his flat in Pimlico. She would let pigeons into her flat so she could feed them. Apparently she didn't want her presence in the flat to interfere with the natural behaviour of the pigeons, so she would let them nest and shit in there and she wouldn't clean it up, because it wasn't natural to do so. The pigeons would die, but apart from the smell and the sludge and the gas, the corpses weren't really a problem. It was the rats that came to eat them. The rats would eat the rotting pigeon corpses mixed in with the rotting pigeon shit and they would get ill and die too. New rats that came through wouldn't mind though, and they'd start to eat the mass, only to get sick and die in it later on. The population grew steadily as more pigeons and rats came from in the cold, to live naturally. They fed the mass further.

i want to do that too

feel you

i have read not even 1 book

bro i read nothing in my life

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

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

no like which do people call me

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

what do you think my name is

yeah

plato

have you read

like first name

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

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

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

idk

god being the centre magnet

isaac

Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl

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

was it worth it

kind of mythopoesis

It Will Get Lighter

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

no i haven't really read anything

bro i read nothing in my life

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

Slug