It was about a crazy lady who lived above his flat in Pimlico. She would let pigeons into her flat so she could feed them. Apparently she didn't want her presence in the flat to interfere with the natural behaviour of the pigeons, so she would let them nest and shit in there and she wouldn't clean it up, because it wasn't natural to do so. The pigeons would die, but apart from the smell and the sludge and the gas, the corpses weren't really a problem. It was the rats that came to eat them. The rats would eat the rotting pigeon corpses mixed in with the rotting pigeon shit and they would get ill and die too. New rats that came through wouldn't mind though, and they'd start to eat the mass, only to get sick and die in it later on. The population grew steadily as more pigeons and rats came from in the cold, to live naturally. They fed the mass further.

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

2 (actually index). two is company

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

1

. way too specific.

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

And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.

all that is to say

as in

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

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

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

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.

it is hopeful

really i want the internet

we need to be deconstructing our identities

lol yea

wait what is that

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

god being the centre magnet

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

you have a beautiful account btw

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

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

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

I Write Goodbye Letter

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

i was tempted to lie about my name

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

its good short few pages

brb i will read and reply sincerely