Better Lift

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

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.

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.

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

Style

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.

i was tempted to lie about my name

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

ahnaf abrar

lol yea

plato

all that is to say

its good

i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason

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

mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

13, H, grate

plato