Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

But seriously, thank you, Jack

Picture

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.

currently

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.

1

but i respect your search

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.

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49


kind of mythopoesis

no longer writing in the third person

hiding from the rain

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

which magnetises chains of pins

all that is to say

i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things

its performative

idk

lol

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

not their contents