Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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

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

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

hiding from the rain

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.

barren land

as in

its performative

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

no longer writing in the third person

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.

in a post. I want to be remembered

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

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have you read

no i haven't really read anything

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

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

lol