Voice of The Pervert : Oh! the beauty of the rain.

Trueee!

Breaking out of a fugue state to command the cobbler heel thyself (got my Miu Miu’s repaired, finally)

Hopefully, unpicking my face from my head

We shall not ask ‘who’ chooses. Certainly no self, because we ourselves are chosen, because a certain self is chosen each time that “we” choose a person to love, a suffering to experience, and each time this self is no less surprised to live or to relive, and to answer the call, whatever the delay.

May have missed my flight due to error in basic reading comprehension . . . Well!

Would someone buy me this skirt pretty please. YES it is 4 grand but also I look hot as fuck and fell in love with it on set and I would have sex with you in it. So take a moment to consider.

How easy, to veil oneself so completely

The assumption of personhood is not something I should ever be trusted with (10 hour shoot so now I'm drinking alone)

Aneveragain, evermore, sigh of hope, only warranted from the slight of one’s ego.

Do I spend a Lot of money on a beautiful coat for my birthday . . .

BREAKING: local flâneuses retain cuteness even when terribly backlit

Forcing myself to be buffeted round by spring winds, lest I devolve too much back towards that little cream room with the polyester shroud.

How easy, to veil oneself so completely

Well!

Maybe it’d be best to be ossified in an image after all.

One day, I'll say "I miss you" in a tone that doesn't reek of desperation.

Filial pyrety (one should put one’s father to the stake). Relation to the name of the Father never to be resolved!

Serving cunt / getting served cunt . . . what a silly state of affairs!

It’s always a little difficult to tear oneself away, isn’t it!

They’re calling it the best gruffalo/Miu Miu crumble they’ve ever seen.

Sometimes you just end up cooking a childhood crumble for giants of fashion in full Miu Miu. Unexpected but v. delightful all things considered . . .

Well!

Todays the Day . . .

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local woman spends half a week on a single bowl of soup, consumes it in fifteen minutes

Me to me (relation of superego to id (oral neuroticism (unsurprisingly, default position of the transsexual))). Will be suffering like this for another 6 days and 1 hour.

Very queer that they allow analytic philosophers outside of the little rat cages they are bred in. Detriment to the socius, and surreal when faced with the "debate-bro" miasmatic, who can't be misogynistic, see, they just Must talk over women about Derrida (whom they dismiss out of pocket ofc).

Fallen solidly into it's so so fucking back.

Wavering on an awful precipice, threatening to fall into one of we’ve never been more over/it’s so fucking back.

Realising that the steady crashing out over the past week may well have been nicotine withdrawal and not just an act of the Lord . . . perhaps using the scraps at the bottom of a month-old bag don’t quite do it!

Sigh!

Need to be put down expeditiously and/or partially immolated (expeditiously)

Relentlessly rewatching Miu Miu F/W 2025 as meditative ritual . . . goal is to eventually discipline the contours of my body to the mould of 114 bpm . . . This is An Achievable and Desirable Thing . . .

Trying and failing to write poetry . . . I think all the beauty of the world falls in the break of the — linking the Phenomenology to the Logic and nothing I can put to page can survive being a witness to it . . . a severe flaw! I've committed myself too hard to the federative difference imo . . .

Yesterday? Not so hot, but today is looking pretty swell.

Walking out of a casting and avoiding eye contact with all the other models waiting for the same tube . . . Yeah we all had our pussies out in the changing room 5 mins ago but I’ve got to get to my real job now (reading Kleist).

God played a cruel joke on Me specifically by saving our souls in the same week as fashion week castings . . . my profane rite of pancakes violently interrupted . . .

They should hang me from fish hooks on an old yew tree. This wouldn't fix me, nor would it be particularly fun, yet nonetheless

Would you force THIS 👇 puling terminally drowsy faggot to divagate from her citizenship appointments?

Had a dream about Phoebe Philo and J.W. Anderson bitching terribly at one another . . . Prophetic? Probably not! Analytically rich? Always . . .

standing on the "treats for girls" platform. winning 10 quintillion seats in parliament

Well! if only one can desire as poorly as I.

Sighing deeply . . .

On the one hand I need beautiful women to treat me like St Sebastian . . . On the other hand, I will get kicked out of fashion week for so much as a mosquito bite . . . sigh!

Sighing audibly and listlessly wandering along the catwalk . . . I stop halfway to sit and recite my Rimbaud . . . My agency in the wings, prodding at me with hot irons, but I refuse to affect anything but my moroseness . . .

corrupting innocent women into involuntarily sticking their tongues out and going "bweeeehhhh"

One can always find relief in dour times with a folly of friends and some waffles . . .

Sometimes, a good talk with a friend involves having a pitchfork taken to your stomach.