As I'm trying to tell my Korean colleague / fresh meat that this is abnormal, that most people in England aren't like this, the host of the party emerges from the bathroom to a roar of laughter and applause. He's a fat middle aged Frenchman and he's changed into traditional Indian dress and a turban. He looks fucking ridiculous. I try to back away, to avoid the inevitable photo of me in this moment that will one day appear to ruin my life, but everyone is crowding around, trapping me in the middle of it.

13, H, grate

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

in a post. I want to be remembered

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

magnetisation/form

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

its performative

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

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

you cannot feed someone truth

really i want the internet

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

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

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.

no longer writing in the third person

        13       |
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            H   |
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. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
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but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter