It Will Get Lighter

i have read not even 1 book

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

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but really the thing should be autonomous

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 have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

I am below everything.

in a post. I want to be remembered

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

isaac newton

i want to do that too

we can only engage in such a way

is everyoneback on tumblr now

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

...

and the fake qualifier

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.

I Write Goodbye Letter

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

so at the end

not so on: yvf(wthw)

was it worth it

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I'm sat out the front of a cafe in Hatton Garden. I've just eaten a brie and bacon panini, and I'm rolling a cigarette. Feeling very London. An old man comes up to me and asks for a roll-up. I oblige.

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