not their contents
propensity within someone
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
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.There is a pretty persistent ambient hate in England, a lot of people say vile shit about Muslims or immigrants or whatever, but in my experience most people aren't actual white supremacists. They have a black friend who they get a beer with. One of the good ones. Etc.
Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:
Today I felt like starting
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.
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.
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
yeah
is everyoneback on tumblr now
feel you
i really havent
you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak
i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls
we need to be deconstructing our identities
as in
which magnetises chains of pins
i did until you asked which kind of gave it away