The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
"Put a blanket."
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17
brb i will read and reply sincerely
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
Can I see
i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.
I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.