After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

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

but i respect your search

we can only engage in such a way

in a post. I want to be remembered

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

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

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brb i will read and reply sincerely

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08


I Write Goodbye Letter

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. I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the dim silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank. They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.

It's loud and he's gone deaf in one ear, so I don't think he's really hearing anything I'm trying to say. We're both pretty drunk too. It's making for a kind of surreal interactive Business Insider YouTube video of a conversation. He talks, waits for my response, sees my mouth moving but doesn't hear my words, then he imagines something in their place, and replies to that. At least I don't really have to do anything but drink and mime and listen to a lot of bullshit fake gangster talk, being an actor, boxing, the old days, blah blah blah.

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.


Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49


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.

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

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

Overall meaning: The dream seems to explore vulnerability, unspoken emotion, and the tension between connection and isolation. It suggests you may be processing intense feelings of longing or missed opportunities, and your subconscious is guiding you to acknowledge, release, or transform them.

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24


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