feel you

and the fake qualifier

i have read not even 1 book

sorry i am texting like a slav

Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?

was it worth it

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

and the fake qualifier

its good short few pages

magnetisation basically means the induction of divine form unto you

was it worth it

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.

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

currently

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

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

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

kind of mythopoesis

But seriously, thank you, Jack, for telling me that I could submit this to a high-level literary magazine or creative nonfiction outlet with some minor tweaks. I don't think I will do that.

all that is to say