not their contents

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever


Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

currently

no longer writing in the third person

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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.

I am below everything.


Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

        13       |
                |
                |
            H   |
                |
                |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

It Will Get Lighter


This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

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.

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

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

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.

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

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.

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt