Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
currently
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.
Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17
I am below everything.
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.
Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50