But seriously, thank you, Jack, for telling me that I could submit this to a high-level literary magazine or creative nonfiction outlet with some minor tweaks. I don't think I will do that.

so the method has to be autonomous

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

in a post. I want to be remembered

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

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

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

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

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.

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

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

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

The only real Londoner remaining is old, bitter, kept around for entertainment, defined by tropes from 30+ years ago. They play gangsters in films, or they work in a pie and mash shop, or they go on Business Insider's YouTube channel to tell you about their crimes. And they somehow still find the time to spend all day hanging about cafes and pubs for you to bump into, to remind you of Real London.

abrar?

and the fake qualifier