i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

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.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

hiding from the rain

Picture

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

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

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

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

Rain, starting

13, H, grate

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

1

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

fw

Thank you, Jack, for telling me I'm just as bad as the characters (actually they're people, if that means anything to you) that I'm writing about.

this will be about a slug

what do you think my name is

we need to be deconstructing our identities

your feed looks like my tumblr

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

i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things

bro i read nothing in my life

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

I'm sat out the front of a cafe in Hatton Garden. I've just eaten a brie and bacon panini, and I'm rolling a cigarette. Feeling very London. An old man comes up to me and asks for a roll-up. I oblige.

The studio designs some piece of media to perpetuate the marketable concept of Real London, while the real London is hollowed out by hollow bankers or whatever. Not pulling on that thread. But the yuppies don't mind because they're free to iterate on Real London without any competition from real London because it's too concerned with its slow eradication. And there's nice flats to live in now or whatever. The yuppies can begin to inhabit their Real London.

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.

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.