IWGD

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.

Picture

Style

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

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

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

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

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

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

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

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After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

"Put a blanket."

Worse Lift

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

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

hiding from the rain

its performative