He was a proper old-fashioned London geezer (cringe word, hate it, can't think of a better one, worst of all it's the correct word), kind of East Endy, kind of Real London, the kind you don't really meet but if you do it always feels like an uncanny immersive theatre experience. They're anachronistic. They only belong in the London collectively imagined by people who don't spend any time in it.
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.you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak
you have a beautiful account btw
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it
Thank you, Jack
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl
no longer writing in the third person
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
"Put a blanket."
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
not their contents