I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

Style

Rain, starting

IWGD


She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.


Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

Picture

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

1

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.

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

so the method has to be autonomous

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

magnetisation/form

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

idk

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

yeah

much more tactility