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.

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.

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.

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

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

it is hopeful

13, H, grate

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

its performative

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

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

what do you think my name is

brb i will read and reply sincerely

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

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

which magnetises chains of pins

lol

idk

as in

like magnets

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason

stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time

lol yea

Rain, starting

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk