I'm getting bored and he can tell, so he shifts the topic towards me. He tells me he'd spotted me chatting to a girl earlier, a black girl, and asks what I thought of her, if I liked her. I mimed affirmatively.
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
abrar?
i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things
and the fake qualifier
i really havent
Mon, 01 Dec 2025 23:38:15
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08
which magnetises chains of pins
that looks like my instagram account
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
was it worth it
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.
...
Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24
...
i dont understand magnetisation
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
your feed looks like my tumblr
As I'm trying to tell my Korean colleague / fresh meat that this is abnormal, that most people in England aren't like this, the host of the party emerges from the bathroom to a roar of laughter and applause. He's a fat middle aged Frenchman and he's changed into traditional Indian dress and a turban. He looks fucking ridiculous. I try to back away, to avoid the inevitable photo of me in this moment that will one day appear to ruin my life, but everyone is crowding around, trapping me in the middle of it.
Another Frenchman pushes through the crowd to join him. He's an events organiser who I'd met earlier, and he's holding a large box wrapped in a bin bag. They're the fireworks he'd smuggled in from France the night before. They're Industrial Grade, whatever that means for fireworks.
ion
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.
Thank you, Jack
the site i am dreaming
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.