ahnaf abrar
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
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.currently
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59
in a post. I want to be remembered
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
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.
no longer writing in the third person
okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models