Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

Better Lift

no longer writing in the third person

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

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

something religious, a kind of complex, it will get lighter, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

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

IWGD

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting