Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
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.
Today I felt like starting
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox."I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
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.
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
I am below everything.
no longer writing in the third person
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03
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.
"Put a blanket."
i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything