Actual born-Londoners aren't LARPing like this, they sold their shite family home for a million pounds and moved to Malaga years ago. They have their culture and they've taken it elsewhere.


Overall meaning: The dream seems to explore vulnerability, unspoken emotion, and the tension between connection and isolation. It suggests you may be processing intense feelings of longing or missed opportunities, and your subconscious is guiding you to acknowledge, release, or transform them.

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.


part of an old note. It will get lighter.

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt


my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

I Write Goodbye Letter

It Will Get Lighter


there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️

the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.

so the method has to be autonomous



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

1

. way too specific.

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
not so on: yvf(wthw)

much more tactility

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.

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.