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

is everyoneback on tumblr now

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

1

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

I am below everything.

Better Lift

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Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

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.

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

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.

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.

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.

A roll of 50s is one of the items he dumps onto my table during the search. Of course it is. He asks if I'm a delivery boy or a setter or this or that diamond related job. I keep saying no, I'm enjoying hearing all of these new words. Eventually I tell him that I work in film, which is kind of true. He asks where I'm filming. I'm not filming. He tells me that I can't be that good at it then. He then tells me that he made a film once, in the 80s. It was called Pimlico Rats.

We look out over the river to a block of luxury flats built on the site of some old docks. It would be nice to live right there. Yes. The conversation drifts to the pleasantness of warm lighting and whether anyone needs a smart home. I interrupt her to make a joke about the French Raj as he runs up the causeway. We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.