okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

Actual born-Londoners aren't LARPing like this, they sold their shite family home for a million pounds and moved to Malaga years ago. They have their culture and they've taken it elsewhere.


Slug


It Will Get Lighter

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

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.

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

        13       |
                |
                |
            H   |
                |
                |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |
and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

not so on: yvf(wthw)

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

yeah

in a post. I want to be remembered

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.

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

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

It Will Get Lighter

bro i read nothing in my life

god being the centre magnet

Mon, 01 Dec 2025 23:38:15

have you read

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

is everyoneback on tumblr now

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

plato

or never left


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

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

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.


Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

like magnets