Thank you, Jack

no longer writing in the third person

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59


this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

currently

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

propensity within someone

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.


"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

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

brb i will read and reply sincerely

magnetisation/form

He was cast as the guy who gets picked up and thrown out of the poker game to set the scene before the main characters arrive. Out of Real London and into real London, a discarded prop, at this party, chatting to me.

Mon, 01 Dec 2025 23:38:15

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

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




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.

Thank you for telling me that I'm failing to see how I'm reproducing the dynamics I'm trying to critique by only describing my Korean colleague / fresh meat and the black girl in relation to others and myself.

The Hatton geezer (fuck off) reminds me of this old failed actor who I'd met at a party a few years ago, another man out of time and out of place. This actor had scored a minor role in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and never really let go of it, had gone on to build his whole identity around it. I can't really blame him.

as in

you have a beautiful account btw

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

The only real Londoner remaining is old, bitter, kept around for entertainment, defined by tropes from 30+ years ago. They play gangsters in films, or they work in a pie and mash shop, or they go on Business Insider's YouTube channel to tell you about their crimes. And they somehow still find the time to spend all day hanging about cafes and pubs for you to bump into, to remind you of Real London.

you know who you are. no more time, not like 1. way too specific.

I'm getting bored and he can tell, so he shifts the topic towards me. He tells me he'd spotted me chatting to a girl earlier, a black girl, and asks what I thought of her, if I liked her. I mimed affirmatively.