w30 '26

it’s kara’s birthday. happy birthday kara.

and: hello again, little one.

you know, you gotta learn to judge your own work the way you do other people’s. getting feedback is important, that’s part of it: true. but you gotta learn to sharpen your eye against your heart because that’s what your voice is.

yeah, you know. read it through, check where the feelings are. fix em up. nothing you don’t already know.

this weekend has been very zero. but before that, the start of the week, i missed my aeroplane. i ended up for a lil time still in berlin all by myself. it was nice. i got home sick. miss my girlies, miss my little life. but then i found myself at the gate. dimples at the gate. not this time, but thank you. and once again a metal tube, and once again a smaller tube capable of slow teleportation. “coffee? rarely. a cup every two to three weeks”. you remind me of someone. everything does.

and i’m smelling quite fascinating, and seemingly an article of interest worthy of inspection. pale, pink, crinkle cut. “semi-skimmed??? yeah! two semi-skimmed!! both of them!!!”. yes, yes. silent Y. every single little detail.it’s all [tktktk] right in (scratched but with intent, engraved? there’s a word with a pointed metal object looks like a mouse nose… it’s like that in my bones. like they’re signed or awarded to the top player.) and inside my chest, in the blood, the colour all diffuse like espresso over ice into milk (like marble) dark and stormy. and you’re like that. you have weather. sunny, stormy. and you warned me “sunny, stormy”. turbulence. the pool around the heart. suspended, kind of, (heart). everything is still except the “clonk clonk” machinery, the pipes, it’s like a ghibli. pictures and music. moving pictures. lights and cameras. danger, achtung, rumbling little wheels along the floor. roll zero, zero yaw, platform pitch and pierce aurora landing with an hour made up in air. and there’s nothing left to give! they’d know exactly who they aren’t, that’s not something i can do! and i can’t give up on myself, and i can’t let go of goo. i don’t think i’ve ever been home sick before. not that i can recall ever in my life. and i was so excited, in the airport, to be getting on a plane towards Heathrow.

and i got home and a dream where i was ███████ at ████‘s ███████ and i looked out the window down into the car and we ████ ███ ███████. i should have said something, but it was always the wrong time until it was too late. of course, Gil didn’t like watching the women’s tennis because of the sounds they make. and there’s the easyhotel old street, i stayed here after the breakup. all night drunk talking to nick, listening to cumbia. (peruvian.)

lmao remember that time sid called miss coulter a dozy cunt and got sent to the principal, and as he was leaving under protest he said it’s not even a fucking swear. nextistential fight or flightless birdy tap the window come on in your cracked up legs i know what’s next my box your nest you rest and nestle convalesce in darkness later acquiesce the window’s open i accept one day it’s empty no protest. from me, i mean. the window’s open. 2am. a spot right here. forgive the mess. barely had a moment, either coming in or going. but at 8am on monday, 5pm on tuesday, something happened beneath my bed and i’m not straight now (horizontal) je serais ton corneille

and this weekend has been very zero. at 7pm yesterday i finally left my bed after laying in one spot deathly hungry for a day. a couple came up to me outside spitalfields, told me that they warm to my energy, that i am a unicorn, that i’m sitting by myself on the wrong side of town. i got misgendered a lot and then i went home. it’s harrowing; we’re breaking up. that’s a soil joke. that’s a weather and gardening reference. then new things grow but the ecosystem is destroyed, think of all the worm holes. it’s a last resort. try planting a big long white radish first. today it’s Sunday, my big ambitions reach as far as Superdrug to buy the wavy hair conditioner (smells like passionfruit and coconuts) and maybe redye my hair and maybe i’ll veet my body til it’s dolphins, and repair my biome. need a week where i eat only what rabbits eat like lettuce, carrots, water, beets — sorry, thinking out loud.

oh i’m going to canada next month. like this:

🛫 -> calgary 🏩
🐯🫛 🦓 🧀 🍃 🏩
✈️ -> vancouver 🏩
🚣? 🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰?
🚣? 🏩
✈️ -> ottowa 🚍 -> gatineau 🏩
🏩 + 👯‍♀️
👰‍♀️ + 🏩
🏩
🚘 -> montreal 🏩
🏩
🏩
🚍 -> kingston 🏩
🚍 -> toronto 🏩
🏩
🛬 -> london (real london, in england)

let me know if you want to hang out. especially on those days when i’m only in a love hotel or hospital towards the end of the month.

and … what else what else what

elsewhither