a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

1

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Picture

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.

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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.

I am below everything.

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

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

hello reader,

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 see a website

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

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

not so on: yvf(wthw)

what do you think my name is

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

in a post. I want to be remembered