"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

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

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

I am below everything.

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

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

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

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

It Will Get Lighter

the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.

Today I felt like starting

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.

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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kind of mythopoesis

Better Lift

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

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