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

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

kind of mythopoesis

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

It Will Get Lighter

        13       |
                |
                |
            H   |
                |
                |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

Thank you, Jack

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

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03