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.


"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

Style

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

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

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.

kind of mythopoesis

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

I am below everything.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

"Put a blanket."

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch