something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

bro i read nothing in my life

I am below everything.

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.

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?

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.

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
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.

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

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

I'm getting bored and he can tell, so he shifts the topic towards me. He tells me he'd spotted me chatting to a girl earlier, a black girl, and asks what I thought of her, if I liked her. I mimed affirmatively.

its good short few pages

magnetisation basically means the induction of divine form unto you

not so on: yvf(wthw)

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.

it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!

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

It Will Get Lighter

that looks like my instagram account

brb i will read and reply sincerely

...

or never left

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

1

. way too specific.

Rain, starting

Thank you, Jack

currently