Picture


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."

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.

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

13, H, grate

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Today I felt like starting

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

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