The studio designs some piece of media to perpetuate the marketable concept of Real London, while the real London is hollowed out by hollow bankers or whatever. Not pulling on that thread. But the yuppies don't mind because they're free to iterate on Real London without any competition from real London because it's too concerned with its slow eradication. And there's nice flats to live in now or whatever. The yuppies can begin to inhabit their Real London.

...

confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.

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

1

. way too specific.

not so on: yvf(wthw)

thank you

Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.


Thank you, Jack

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

brb i will read and reply sincerely

Lift Analysis

...

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

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

yeah

⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️

She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.

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.

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

you have a beautiful account btw

Picture

After I get away from the old racist failed actor, I go to see my Korean colleague. He's just arrived in London and I want to see how he's handling the party. We'd been invited as fresh meat for some of the older, gayer attendees. We aren't aware of that.



As I'm trying to tell my Korean colleague / fresh meat that this is abnormal, that most people in England aren't like this, the host of the party emerges from the bathroom to a roar of laughter and applause. He's a fat middle aged Frenchman and he's changed into traditional Indian dress and a turban. He looks fucking ridiculous. I try to back away, to avoid the inevitable photo of me in this moment that will one day appear to ruin my life, but everyone is crowding around, trapping me in the middle of it.

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