something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

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.


"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

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.

It Will Get Lighter

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?




the site i am dreaming

hello reader,

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

"Put a blanket."

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

it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!

Pimlico Rats

⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things


barren land

13, H, grate

much more tactility