I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

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 wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

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

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

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

1

so an active mazelike process

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

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

not their contents

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

Style

IWGD

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.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

Overall meaning: The dream seems to explore vulnerability, unspoken emotion, and the tension between connection and isolation. It suggests you may be processing intense feelings of longing or missed opportunities, and your subconscious is guiding you to acknowledge, release, or transform them.

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.