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.

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.

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

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

December 2025

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

        13       |
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            H   |
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. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
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I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

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 know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

plato

my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given

lol yea

idk

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

it is hopeful