I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank.

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.

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

It Will Get Lighter

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

no longer writing in the third person

in a post. I want to be remembered

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

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Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Style

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.