no longer writing in the third person

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

isaac newton

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.

Rain, starting

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.



Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

It Will Get Lighter

December 2025

Actual born-Londoners aren't LARPing like this, they sold their shite family home for a million pounds and moved to Malaga years ago. They have their culture and they've taken it elsewhere.

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

god being the centre magnet

Today I felt like starting

"Put a blanket."

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.

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

we need to be deconstructing our identities

whats your name?

is everyoneback on tumblr now

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

it is hopeful

i want to do that too

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

wait what is that

i really havent

sorry i am texting like a slav