There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

magnetisation/form

Better Lift

It Will Get Lighter

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

not their contents

in a post. I want to be remembered

like magnets

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.

13, H, grate

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

it is hopeful

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

no longer writing in the third person

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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

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

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

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.

you have a beautiful account btw

The studio designs some piece of media to perpetuate the marketable concept of Real London, while the real London is hollowed out by hollow bankers or whatever. Not pulling on that thread. But the yuppies don't mind because they're free to iterate on Real London without any competition from real London because it's too concerned with its slow eradication. And there's nice flats to live in now or whatever. The yuppies can begin to inhabit their Real London.

not so on: yvf(wthw)

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

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.