It Will Get Lighter

not their contents

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

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

in a post. I want to be remembered

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

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Better Lift

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

Lift Analysis

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

It's loud and he's gone deaf in one ear, so I don't think he's really hearing anything I'm trying to say. We're both pretty drunk too. It's making for a kind of surreal interactive Business Insider YouTube video of a conversation. He talks, waits for my response, sees my mouth moving but doesn't hear my words, then he imagines something in their place, and replies to that. At least I don't really have to do anything but drink and mime and listen to a lot of bullshit fake gangster talk, being an actor, boxing, the old days, blah blah blah.

⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️

I Write Goodbye Letter

The only real Londoner remaining is old, bitter, kept around for entertainment, defined by tropes from 30+ years ago. They play gangsters in films, or they work in a pie and mash shop, or they go on Business Insider's YouTube channel to tell you about their crimes. And they somehow still find the time to spend all day hanging about cafes and pubs for you to bump into, to remind you of Real London.

not so on: yvf(wthw)

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Picture

Mon, 01 Dec 2025 23:38:15

He was a proper old-fashioned London geezer (cringe word, hate it, can't think of a better one, worst of all it's the correct word), kind of East Endy, kind of Real London, the kind you don't really meet but if you do it always feels like an uncanny immersive theatre experience. They're anachronistic. They only belong in the London collectively imagined by people who don't spend any time in it.


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.