it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!

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.

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Thank you, Jack

Mon, 01 Dec 2025 23:38:15

...

hello reader,

The old failed actor genuinely believed this girl was of a lesser race. He believed she shouldn't be talking with me, shouldn't be here at this party, shouldn't be here in this country. He wanted a white England. I didn't really challenge him on it. Sometimes I justify it with thoughts like I was drunk, or baffled, or it isn't an argument I'll win, or he can't hear me anyway, or whatever. I didn't argue with him. I just cut off his rant and left with a pathetic "In a bit."

It Will Get Lighter

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away


a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext

As I'm trying to tell my Korean colleague / fresh meat that this is abnormal, that most people in England aren't like this, the host of the party emerges from the bathroom to a roar of laughter and applause. He's a fat middle aged Frenchman and he's changed into traditional Indian dress and a turban. He looks fucking ridiculous. I try to back away, to avoid the inevitable photo of me in this moment that will one day appear to ruin my life, but everyone is crowding around, trapping me in the middle of it.

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

The Hatton geezer (fuck off) is emptying his pockets, searching for the silver rizlas he apparently has. He refuses to take one of mine (also silver) because the tobacco I'm giving him is already too much to ask. He tells me about the guy who can do 50g of Golden Virginia for a good price, the guy who every other man over 50 knows. I'm not interested.

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.

send your tumblr

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

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

which magnetises chains of pins

not so on: yvf(wthw)

and the fake qualifier

sorry i am texting like a slav

its good