She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.
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
mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation
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?
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:
you have a beautiful account btw
Thank you, Jack
Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17
I am below everything.
so an active mazelike process
He was a proper old-fashioned London geezer (cringe word, hate it, can't think of a better one, worst of all it's the correct word), kind of East Endy, kind of Real London, the kind you don't really meet but if you do it always feels like an uncanny immersive theatre experience. They're anachronistic. They only belong in the London collectively imagined by people who don't spend any time in it.
it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50
Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41
hello reader,
brb i will read and reply sincerely
...
so the method has to be autonomous
I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
The Hatton geezer (fuck off) reminds me of this old failed actor who I'd met at a party a few years ago, another man out of time and out of place. This actor had scored a minor role in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and never really let go of it, had gone on to build his whole identity around it. I can't really blame him.