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

the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03


Rain, starting


Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

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

It Will Get Lighter

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.



Style

Worse Lift

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

He was cast as the guy who gets picked up and thrown out of the poker game to set the scene before the main characters arrive. Out of Real London and into real London, a discarded prop, at this party, chatting to me.

⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️

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

1

. way too specific.

part of an old note. It will get lighter.
confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.

2 (actually index). two is company

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

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

Pimlico Rats

Thank you, Jack, for telling me I'm just as bad as the characters (actually they're people, if that means anything to you) that I'm writing about.

The old failed actor genuinely believed this girl was of a lesser race. He believed she shouldn't be talking with me, shouldn't be here at this party, shouldn't be here in this country. He wanted a white England. I didn't really challenge him on it. Sometimes I justify it with thoughts like I was drunk, or baffled, or it isn't an argument I'll win, or he can't hear me anyway, or whatever. I didn't argue with him. I just cut off his rant and left with a pathetic "In a bit."

We look out over the river to a block of luxury flats built on the site of some old docks. It would be nice to live right there. Yes. The conversation drifts to the pleasantness of warm lighting and whether anyone needs a smart home. I interrupt her to make a joke about the French Raj as he runs up the causeway. We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.