The old failed actor genuinely believed this girl was of a lesser race. He believed she shouldn't be talking with me, shouldn't be here at this party, shouldn't be here in this country. He wanted a white England. I didn't really challenge him on it. Sometimes I justify it with thoughts like I was drunk, or baffled, or it isn't an argument I'll win, or he can't hear me anyway, or whatever. I didn't argue with him. I just cut off his rant and left with a pathetic "In a bit."

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

you have a beautiful account btw

so the method has to be autonomous

Can I see

kind of mythopoesis

we can only engage in such a way

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

hiding from the rain

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

really i want the internet

Better Lift

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

Rain, starting

I am below everything.

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.