and the fake qualifier

but i respect your search

i see a website

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

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

theres a kind of a cowardice to generative art that i want to avoid though. i want the kind of relationship to this thing that a game designer has to a game engine

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

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

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

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

not so on: yvf(wthw)

Actual born-Londoners aren't LARPing like this, they sold their shite family home for a million pounds and moved to Malaga years ago. They have their culture and they've taken it elsewhere.

Worse Lift

I'm getting bored and he can tell, so he shifts the topic towards me. He tells me he'd spotted me chatting to a girl earlier, a black girl, and asks what I thought of her, if I liked her. I mimed affirmatively.

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.

Thank you, Jack, for telling me I'm just as bad as the characters (actually they're people, if that means anything to you) that I'm writing about.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

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

you have a beautiful account btw

My inability to confront the old racist failed actor is distracting me. I decide not to tell her about it.

Another Frenchman pushes through the crowd to join him. He's an events organiser who I'd met earlier, and he's holding a large box wrapped in a bin bag. They're the fireworks he'd smuggled in from France the night before. They're Industrial Grade, whatever that means for fireworks.