Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03


Better Lift

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.

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

it is hopeful

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

your feed looks like my tumblr

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

is everyoneback on tumblr now

that looks like my instagram account

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

so the method has to be autonomous

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

yeah

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

lol

its performative