Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
no longer writing in the third person
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
but really the thing should be autonomous
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged
in a post. I want to be remembered
"Put a blanket."
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?
to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos
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.
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
it is hopeful
autonomy of learning