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.

Lift Analysis

The Hatton geezer (fuck off) reminds me of this old failed actor who I'd met at a party a few years ago, another man out of time and out of place. This actor had scored a minor role in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and never really let go of it, had gone on to build his whole identity around it. I can't really blame him.

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

I Write Goodbye Letter

so the method has to be autonomous

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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

1

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

not so on: yvf(wthw)

Rain, starting

i want to do that too

hiding from the rain

no longer writing in the third person

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

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

stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time

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

wait what is that

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

        13       |
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            H   |
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way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

I imagine that some lab-grown 29-year-old from Woking with a mind honed to identify individuals who fit the profile of Real Londoner (as conceived of by 50 opinion-polled racist builders and their wives in the Midlands) picks a stubborn local who can still somehow afford to live here and passes him along to some creative studio.