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.

Better Lift

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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

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

really i want the internet

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

as in

yeah

feel you

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

that looks like my instagram account

we need to be deconstructing our identities

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

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

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

isaac

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

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

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

is everyoneback on tumblr now