it is hopeful
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
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.
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.
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.no longer writing in the third person
hiding from the rain
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03
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.
Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03
Today I felt like starting
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.
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?