We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river.
"Put a blanket."
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
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.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
...
you know who you are. no more time, not like
1
. way too specific.Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24
...
Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
or never left
barren land
the site i am dreaming
way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it