The only real Londoner remaining is old, bitter, kept around for entertainment, defined by tropes from 30+ years ago. They play gangsters in films, or they work in a pie and mash shop, or they go on Business Insider's YouTube channel to tell you about their crimes. And they somehow still find the time to spend all day hanging about cafes and pubs for you to bump into, to remind you of Real London.

kind of mythopoesis

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.

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

Better Lift

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

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

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.

much more tactility

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

Better Lift

really i want the internet

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

as in

its performative

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

"Put a blanket."