Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

IWGD

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

currently

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.

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

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.

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

i see a website

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.

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

I am below everything.

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

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

kind of mythopoesis

really i want the internet