hello reader,

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

Better Lift

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

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.

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

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Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

no longer writing in the third person

1

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.

Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you