Greenwich Mean Time

week 7; 2022

I started the week in disappearance, destroy phase, out of space and time.

removed my avatar from apps, disappeared, left notifications unread, did not respond to extraofficial chat.

had to exit; felt unwelcome in my own body.

On Wednesday morning i received a message from somebody trying to make sure i wasn't feeling more than they wanted. I wasn't.

On Wednesday evening I went out. A girl kissed me up against a wire fence and told me that i was hot, "you are so hot" she said. it was great. i think it's the first time anyone's ever thought i was a girl, and also hot, and also kissed me, all at once. It was really nice, and it continues to be nice and is important to me. it was the first time somebody's kissed me for over a year. She later contacted me to make sure i wasn't feeling more than she wanted me to. I wasn't.

i typed everything up until and including this line just after my 10:22p.m. bath but before getting on Citymapper and figuring out how i'm meant to get to Vauxhall for the rave.

i'll soon be slipping my laptop in my new bright yellow unit portables laptop bag, drinking a quick coffee to try to counteract the two valiums i ate earlier to take the edge off the latte and 3 martinis i drank earlier. i'm hoping to come home kind of early this evening, like 5 or 6am, but we'll see. love you, wish me luck. btw i know i already mentioned this but i'm so cute ever since i got the bangs.

in attendance

Okay, the rabbit 🐇 before expressed an interest in coming home a nice early 5 or 6am on Sunday. As we write, that very same rabbit 🐇 is sat in the back corner of the now defunct CREW ONLY area at 5:14p.m.

When the party (the one you were advertised on telegram) ends, something else is already there to take its place. DJs continue to play for hours and usually for days after the rave itself concludes. Originally at the same location; then a set of core stragglers will take a reduced soundsystem to another location and continue. Speakers, powers supplies, decks; these will be lost one by one: taken home by their sleepy owners until all that's left is someone playing their set with djay pro on a Thinkpad out of a bluetooth speaker from IKEA to the people they live with and the people who have nowhere else to go.

That something else is The Party, an eternal network woven into the fabric of society. Part of the fundament that allows things like Monday Morning Meetings to take place without people chewing their eyebrows off.

only at the party can your life so dramatically change every time you go to the toilet. most of the action and activity takes place in the stairwells and hallways. you'll always find me in the liminal spaces at raves.

because i've been rewatching old episodes of M*A*S*H all week, and because the peculiarities of the tranquilizer we use to get in touch with one another, all my thoughts of the party and the people in it are tied up with characters from the 4077. i keep answering questions in character as Hawkeye or Henry Blake, but nobody has noticed. even when i told that person was confusing everyone "hey maybe you oughta go out and come back in and try again, or better yet let's throw the whole party out and start from the beginning".

a new class of problems i didn't know I was going to start having once i started doing the bangs and lipstick and eyeliner and translucent powder: hot girl problems. somebody got tipsy and asked if they could kiss me. later they sobered up and remembered they were in a relationship and messaged me to apologize and inform me it would not be happening again.

a person with incredible bone structure at the party told me i am beautiful and asked if they could kiss me a little round the corner and i said "not right now" because i was too high

twice in 1 week since i took the bangs and lips for a spin somebody has asked for permission to kiss me. they are maybe too powerful.

i'm not trying to brag, i'm just trying to chronicle this curious new development brought on by my new make-up and hair style and brag about it. it's very exciting for a fat ugly little enby like me from a country without any lakes or snakes to suddenly be hot.

the acid washed denim jacket, silly t-shirt, over-sized orange sunglasses and green-black bang-framed face are really turning into an iconic look. hopefully i will be photographed soon by somebody from a magazine and killed shortly thereafter.

on Monday i had a new OP-1 delivered, but it was faulty so I sent it back. on Tuesday i had another delivered, its battery wasn't doing good so i performed the magical rite of draining it to 0 and refilling it to 100% and draining it again. it seems to have worked? i always thought that thing was a myth like salt.

all i need to do is write and write and write so i have enough to say when i open my mouth

something i believe about ketamine is that it is possible to use it to find a non-fatal way out of reality. it is one of the few navigational tools for reaching the spaces between the gaps.

all over the country and the world people are accessing the universal console and improving themselves and the lives of others. sometimes this process causes small items they had in their pockets (such as USB sticks or house keys) to be deleted or moved.

i met some important people this time, such as catgirl and jangles for whom i hope to play a kind of gertrude stein figure as they chronicle the party.

in an unusual turn of events, a middle-aged property manager at the bus stop invited me to come and watch a James Bond movie with her and a friend she has staying over. i’ve declined on the grounds of the promise i made to myself that i would get home before midnight.

that will be all for now