We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river.

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

Better Lift

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.

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.

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

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

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

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

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

2 (actually index). two is company

13, H, grate

the site i am dreaming

...

December 2025

i really havent

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful