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.

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

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

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

"Put a blanket."

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

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

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

i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.

we can only engage in such a way

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

autonomy of learning

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

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

but really the thing should be autonomous

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

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

it is hopeful

all that is to say

And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.

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