Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Worse Lift


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.

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models


Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

IWGD

...

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

brb i will read and reply sincerely

part of an old note. It will get lighter.
I Write Goodbye Letter

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.

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️

you have a beautiful account btw

was it worth it

no i haven't really read anything

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

which magnetises chains of pins

the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.