They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.
It's
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.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.
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
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."Put a blanket."
it is hopeful
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
I am below everything.