I am below everything.

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.

It Will Get Lighter

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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

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.

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

Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

Mon, 01 Dec 2025 23:38:15

We look out over the river to a block of luxury flats built on the site of some old docks. It would be nice to live right there. Yes.

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

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

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

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:

Worse Lift