fw

Rain, starting

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

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.

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

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

you cannot feed someone truth

in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation

Worse Lift

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

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

no longer writing in the third person

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

its performative

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

all that is to say

really i want the internet

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.

abrar?