Pimlico Rats

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

currently

13, H, grate

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

        13       |
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            H   |
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. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
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Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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

1

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.

Picture

I catch him on his way to the bar, telling him about this old racist failed actor that I'm avoiding. That I'm failing to confront. I get the sense he's avoiding people too. We get our drinks and find a corner. We chat for a bit. He's managing just fine.

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

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

Her English is poor but she manages a brief introduction before getting to the point. She asks if she can touch his face. She's already reaching out and gesturing at it. Koreans are way too polite, he's just laughing awkwardly. I put my hand kind of between them and wave it to try and indicate no to her. I'm still in fucking mime mode. I say no, but it's not really to her, or to him, just no, in general. This is all too weird. Dejected, she departs with a comment about having never seen someone like him before.

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

and the fake qualifier

i understand

that looks like my instagram account

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.