A procession forms behind the French Raj and his fireworks bearer as they head out the door. I've lost my Korean colleague / fresh meat in the chaos. I'm sure he'll be able to fend for himself. They have mandatory military service in Korea.

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.

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.

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

really i want the internet

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

1

autonomy of learning

yes

i love it here

as in

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

I catch him on his way to the bar, telling him about this old racist failed actor that I'm avoiding. That I'm failing to confront. I get the sense he's avoiding people too. We get our drinks and find a corner. We chat for a bit. He's managing just fine.

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

Thank you, Jack

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

we can only engage in such a way

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

and the fake qualifier