I imagine that some lab-grown 29-year-old from Woking with a mind honed to identify individuals who fit the profile of Real Londoner (as conceived of by 50 opinion-polled racist builders and their wives in the Midlands) picks a stubborn local who can still somehow afford to live here and passes him along to some creative studio.

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

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.

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.

and the fake qualifier

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

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

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.


the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

Mon, 01 Dec 2025 23:38:15

Today I felt like starting

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

wait what is that

not their contents