okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
IWGD
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I
feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.
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.
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
