Thank you, Jack
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?
i am quite illiterate on producing technology
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.no longer writing in the third person
I am below everything.
13 |
|
|
H |
|
|
. . . . |
. . . . |
. . . . |
. . . . |
|
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.
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike
currently
is everyoneback on tumblr now