fw
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue
so an active mazelike process
it is hopeful
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
currently
brb i will read and reply sincerely
not their contents
you have a beautiful account btw
to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river. I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the dim silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank. They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.