Rain, starting

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

Style

Worse Lift

I am below everything.

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.

hiding from the rain

in a post. I want to be remembered

Better Lift

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

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.

is everyoneback on tumblr now

i really havent

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

yeah