Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03


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

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.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24


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.

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

        13       |
                |
                |
            H   |
                |
                |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

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

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

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.


1

Picture

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

Style

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

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

we need to be deconstructing our identities

currently

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

IWGD

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