that looks like my instagram account
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some
insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
your feed looks like my tumblr
i dont understand magnetisation
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.
It Will Get Lighter
confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with
it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.
⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️
-
Lift and confinement – The crowded, immovable lift represents feeling
trapped or constrained in real life, either by social expectations,
relationships, or internal emotions. The inability to speak in front of
others suggests suppressed feelings or fear of judgment.
-
Unexpected confession – The girl saying “I think I might love you” could
symbolize longing for connection or recognition. It may reflect
unacknowledged desires, vulnerability, or anxiety about intimacy.
-
Forest and snow – The transition to a snowy forest signals escape into the
subconscious, a place of solitude, reflection, and emotional processing.
Snow often represents purity, stillness, or emotional coldness, while dusk
points to transition or uncertainty.
-
The fox – Foxes are traditionally symbols of cunning, intuition, and
guidance, but here it’s more ethereal: its bites are gentle yet noticeable,
suggesting a confrontation with subtle truths, small regrets, or lessons
that must be acknowledged. The unspoken apology indicates things left
unresolved or feelings that cannot be expressed.
-
Death or dissolution – Dying in the dream often doesn’t mean literal death;
it represents transformation, the end of a phase, or surrendering control.
It can indicate letting go of fear, old habits, or emotional blockages.
i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge
management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things
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.
It was about a crazy lady who lived above his flat in Pimlico. She would
let pigeons into her flat so she could feed them. Apparently she didn't want her presence in the flat to interfere with the natural
behaviour of the pigeons, so
she would let them nest
and shit in there and she wouldn't clean it up, because it wasn't natural to
do so. The
pigeons would die, but apart from the smell and the sludge and the gas, the corpses weren't really a problem. It was the rats that came to eat them. The rats would eat the rotting pigeon corpses mixed in with the rotting pigeon shit and they would get ill and die too. New
rats that came through wouldn't mind though, and they'd start to eat the mass, only to get sick and die in it later on. The population grew
steadily as more pigeons and rats
came from
in the cold, to live
naturally. They fed the mass
further.
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the
morning, when I'm not quite right.
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry
class
Her English is poor but she manages a brief introduction before getting to the
point. She asks if she can touch his face. She's already reaching out and
gesturing at it. Koreans are way too polite, he's just laughing awkwardly. I
put my hand kind of between them and wave it to try and indicate no to her.
I'm still in fucking mime mode. I say no, but it's not really to her, or to
him, just no, in general. This is all too weird. Dejected, she departs with a
comment about having never seen someone like him before.
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.
