It was about a crazy lady who lived above his flat in Pimlico. She would let pigeons into her flat so she could feed them. Apparently she didn't want her presence in the flat to interfere with the natural behaviour of the pigeons, so she would let them nest and shit in there and she wouldn't clean it up, because it wasn't natural to do so. The pigeons would die, but apart from the smell and the sludge and the gas, the corpses weren't really a problem. It was the rats that came to eat them. The rats would eat the rotting pigeon corpses mixed in with the rotting pigeon shit and they would get ill and die too. New rats that came through wouldn't mind though, and they'd start to eat the mass, only to get sick and die in it later on. The population grew steadily as more pigeons and rats came from in the cold, to live naturally. They fed the mass further.
i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls
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.
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
so at the end
currently
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
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
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
you have a beautiful account btw
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.
so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged
it is hopeful
i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
brb i will read and reply sincerely
Lift Analysis
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13
mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation