Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

IWGD

it is hopeful

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

It Will Get Lighter

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

Style

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

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

"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.

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

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

13, H, grate

i see a website

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos