Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
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.
it is hopeful
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
propensity within someone
ion
idk
we can only engage in such a way
kind of mythopoesis
okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.