It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03
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.
it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
December 2025
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
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.
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
i really havent