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.

13, H, grate

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

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.

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.

no i haven't really read anything

It Will Get Lighter

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

your feed looks like my tumblr

have you read

abrar?

its performative

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

as in

that looks like my instagram account

you cannot feed someone truth

lol yea

we need to be deconstructing our identities

It Will Get Lighter

ahnaf abrar

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

the site i am dreaming

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

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

...

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

magnetises a pin

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

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

Today I felt like starting

i want to do that too