I am below everything.

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.

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

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

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things

It Will Get Lighter

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

Better Lift

we need to be deconstructing our identities

the site i am dreaming

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

like first name

i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue

have you read

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

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?

that looks like my instagram account

wait what is that

no like which do people call me

no i haven't really read anything

really i want the internet

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

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