He sits on a rock in the middle of the river, passing judgement on everyone who crosses. I shouldn’t care what he thinks of me. But I care so much I can’t sleep at night, wondering, worrying, wishing that he liked me more.
__________
Notes:
1. Written on 21st August, 2026
__________I’m not sure why I made this
any possible [insert whatever the name of a bluesky post is here]
“This is a totally pointless thing I made that generates unique entirely random bluesky posts made from the 26 letters of the roman alphabet with a capital letter at the start and a full stop at the end to make it look like a proper sentence of gibberish that completely fills up the bluesky post box.”
(obviously even more pointless for anyone who doesn’t have a bluesky account, or does have one and doesn’t want to fill it up with unreadable shite, but I do, and I do, so for me it’s the perfect tool)
__________
Notes:
1. I made this on AUgust 18th, 2026
__________“Whoever invented quiche is an idiot,” Claire announced. She wasn’t even eating quiche. She was just thinking about it.
“Quiche wasn’t invented,” Daniel said. He wasn’t thinking about quiche at all. He was too busy eating it. “It was discovered.”
“By an idiot,” Claire said, still thinking about quiche. And suddenly also celery. “Whoever invented celery is an idiot.”
“Celery wasn’t invented,” Tina said. She was both thinking and not thinking about celery at the same time. Also she was drinking a cup of tea because she’d already eaten all the celery she could eat and it’d made her feel a bit ill. “It was grown.”
“By an idiot,” Claire said, thinking about quiche and celery now. And suddenly also ravioli. “Whoever invented ravioli is an idiot.”
“Ravioli wasn’t invented,” Ethel said. She was both thinking about and eating ravioli. “It was born.”
“It was not!” said Claire. But now she would never stop thinking about ravioli ever again. Ravioli, and where, where it came from.
___________
Notes:
1. Written on August 10th, 2026
__________There was a cloud out to sea, raining.
Was it a mirage, a ghost, a premonition? Whatever it was, everyone in the town looked at it wistfully and begged it to come closer.
But it did not.
___________
Notes:
1. Written in August 2026
__________It used to be you could find an audience on the internet
by making stuff for people to look at
And if they liked it, then maybe
they’d sometimes come back for more
Now no one looks at anything on the internet at all
and they certainly don’t like it
And the only things that come back for more
are the insatiable robots we’ve built
that’ll eat it all up
eat everything all up
again and again and again
So they can vomit it back up later
half misremembered and all incoherent
to save us the pain of ever having to see
what was originally said
in its own time
and place
__________
Notes:
1. Written on July 18th, 2026
__________