Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

isaac

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

really i want the internet

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.

so at the end

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

but i respect your search

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

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.

kind of mythopoesis

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

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

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

currently

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.

i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things

ion

Lift Analysis

Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.