It Will Get Lighter

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

kind of mythopoesis

no longer writing in the third person

whats your name?

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

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

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.

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

you have a beautiful account btw

but really the thing should be autonomous

currently