It was about a crazy lady who lived above his flat in Pimlico. She would let pigeons into her flat so she could feed them. Apparently she didn't want her presence in the flat to interfere with the natural behaviour of the pigeons, so she would let them nest and shit in there and she wouldn't clean it up, because it wasn't natural to do so. The pigeons would die, but apart from the smell and the sludge and the gas, the corpses weren't really a problem. It was the rats that came to eat them. The rats would eat the rotting pigeon corpses mixed in with the rotting pigeon shit and they would get ill and die too. New rats that came through wouldn't mind though, and they'd start to eat the mass, only to get sick and die in it later on. The population grew steadily as more pigeons and rats came from in the cold, to live naturally. They fed the mass further.
abrar?
ahnaf abrar
I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.wait what is that
bro i read nothing in my life
theres a kind of a cowardice to generative art that i want to avoid though. i want the kind of relationship to this thing that a game designer has to a game engine
okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate
wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me
...
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
in a post. I want to be remembered
so the method has to be autonomous
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
we need to be deconstructing our identities
its good
like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them
or never left