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hiding from the rain

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

A roll of 50s is one of the items he dumps onto my table during the search. Of course it is. He asks if I'm a delivery boy or a setter or this or that diamond related job. I keep saying no, I'm enjoying hearing all of these new words. Eventually I tell him that I work in film, which is kind of true. He asks where I'm filming. I'm not filming. He tells me that I can't be that good at it then. He then tells me that he made a film once, in the 80s. It was called Pimlico Rats.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

I catch him on his way to the bar, telling him about this old racist failed actor that I'm avoiding. That I'm failing to confront. I get the sense he's avoiding people too. We get our drinks and find a corner. We chat for a bit. He's managing just fine.

plato

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

Style

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

plato

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

the site i am dreaming

It's

dusk

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.

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.

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

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

that looks like my instagram account

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

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