that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

I am below everything.

all that is to say

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

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

hiding from the rain

much more tactility

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It was about a crazy lady who lived above his flat in Pimlico. She would let pigeons into her flat so she could feed them. Apparently she didn't want her presence in the flat to interfere with the natural behaviour of the pigeons, so she would let them nest and shit in there and she wouldn't clean it up, because it wasn't natural to do so. The pigeons would die, but apart from the smell and the sludge and the gas, the corpses weren't really a problem. It was the rats that came to eat them. The rats would eat the rotting pigeon corpses mixed in with the rotting pigeon shit and they would get ill and die too. New rats that came through wouldn't mind though, and they'd start to eat the mass, only to get sick and die in it later on. The population grew steadily as more pigeons and rats came from in the cold, to live naturally. They fed the mass further.

My inability to confront the old racist failed actor is distracting me. I decide not to tell her about it.

so an active mazelike process


He went in there with a camera to film it before he moved out of the building. He didn't think anyone would believe the story if he didn't have proof.

Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?

autonomy of learning

The Hatton geezer (fuck off) is emptying his pockets, searching for the silver rizlas he apparently has. He refuses to take one of mine (also silver) because the tobacco I'm giving him is already too much to ask. He tells me about the guy who can do 50g of Golden Virginia for a good price, the guy who every other man over 50 knows. I'm not interested.

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

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. I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the dim silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank. They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.

Better Lift

Thank you for telling me that I'm failing to see how I'm reproducing the dynamics I'm trying to critique by only describing my Korean colleague / fresh meat and the black girl in relation to others and myself.

A procession forms behind the French Raj and his fireworks bearer as they head out the door. I've lost my Korean colleague / fresh meat in the chaos. I'm sure he'll be able to fend for himself. They have mandatory military service in Korea.


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.