we want to live the knowledge too live the content

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.

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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.


13, H, grate

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

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

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

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


Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

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.

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Rain, starting

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

it is hopeful

I am below everything.

He was cast as the guy who gets picked up and thrown out of the poker game to set the scene before the main characters arrive. Out of Real London and into real London, a discarded prop, at this party, chatting to me.


I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

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.

It Will Get Lighter

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

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

no i haven't really read anything

Actual born-Londoners aren't LARPing like this, they sold their shite family home for a million pounds and moved to Malaga years ago. They have their culture and they've taken it elsewhere.

Thank you, Jack

IWGD

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.