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.

It Will Get Lighter

I imagine that some lab-grown 29-year-old from Woking with a mind honed to identify individuals who fit the profile of Real Londoner (as conceived of by 50 opinion-polled racist builders and their wives in the Midlands) picks a stubborn local who can still somehow afford to live here and passes him along to some creative studio.

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

. way too specific.

i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason

stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time

The Hatton geezer (fuck off) reminds me of this old failed actor who I'd met at a party a few years ago, another man out of time and out of place. This actor had scored a minor role in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and never really let go of it, had gone on to build his whole identity around it. I can't really blame him.

ion

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

magnetisation basically means the induction of divine form unto you

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.

Lift Analysis

barren land

as in

Worse Lift

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.

confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.

Thank you, Jack

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

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.

really i want the internet

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations: