abrar?

IWGD

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

Today I felt like starting

Worse Lift

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

I am below everything.

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

hiding from the rain

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 know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

I'm sat out the front of a cafe in Hatton Garden. I've just eaten a brie and bacon panini, and I'm rolling a cigarette. Feeling very London. An old man comes up to me and asks for a roll-up. I oblige.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

I imagine that some lab-grown 29-year-old from Woking with a mind honed to identify individuals who fit the profile of Real Londoner (as conceived of by 50 opinion-polled racist builders and their wives in the Midlands) picks a stubborn local who can still somehow afford to live here and passes him along to some creative studio.

i dont understand magnetisation

hello reader,

have you read

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.

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

i have read not even 1 book

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

Lift Analysis

Better Lift

Style

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