"Put a blanket."

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

no like which do people call me

We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river. I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the dim silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank. They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.

i dont understand magnetisation

i really havent

send your tumblr

which magnetises chains of pins

and the fake qualifier

plato

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

hello reader,

Thank you, Jack

⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️

I Write Goodbye Letter

i love it here

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:

Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?

As I'm trying to tell my Korean colleague / fresh meat that this is abnormal, that most people in England aren't like this, the host of the party emerges from the bathroom to a roar of laughter and applause. He's a fat middle aged Frenchman and he's changed into traditional Indian dress and a turban. He looks fucking ridiculous. I try to back away, to avoid the inevitable photo of me in this moment that will one day appear to ruin my life, but everyone is crowding around, trapping me in the middle of it.

what do you think my name is