a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

it is hopeful

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

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

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

It's

dusk

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

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

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

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

but i respect your search

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

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

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

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me