Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
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.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.kind of mythopoesis
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.
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
December 2025
the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book
the site i am dreaming
i really havent
was it worth it
a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it