Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

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.

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

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.

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

Better Lift

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

"Put a blanket."

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

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

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.

yes

It's

dusk

autonomy of learning

Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:

you cannot feed someone truth

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

not their contents

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.

1. Lift and confinement – The crowded, immovable lift represents feeling trapped or constrained in real life, either by social expectations, relationships, or internal emotions. The inability to speak in front of others suggests suppressed feelings or fear of judgment.
2. Unexpected confession – The girl saying “I think I might love you” could symbolize longing for connection or recognition. It may reflect unacknowledged desires, vulnerability, or anxiety about intimacy.
3. Forest and snow – The transition to a snowy forest signals escape into the subconscious, a place of solitude, reflection, and emotional processing. Snow often represents purity, stillness, or emotional coldness, while dusk points to transition or uncertainty.
4. The fox – Foxes are traditionally symbols of cunning, intuition, and guidance, but here it’s more ethereal: its bites are gentle yet noticeable, suggesting a confrontation with subtle truths, small regrets, or lessons that must be acknowledged. The unspoken apology indicates things left unresolved or feelings that cannot be expressed.
5. Death or dissolution – Dying in the dream often doesn’t mean literal death; it represents transformation, the end of a phase, or surrendering control. It can indicate letting go of fear, old habits, or emotional blockages.

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

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.