currently
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41
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.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
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.
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
much more tactility
division of reality is straying away from it