we need to be deconstructing our identities

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

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

"Put a blanket."

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.

Picture

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

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hiding from the rain

1

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.

i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

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

Can I see

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

Lift Analysis

or never left