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.
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
Today I felt like starting
i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
no longer writing in the third person
not their contents
so at the end
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.
we can only engage in such a way
amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting
as in
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.brb i will read and reply sincerely