Picture
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59
Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider
this the founding document of iw.gl
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is
only a
dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.
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.
It Will Get Lighter
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
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.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
Rain, starting
Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03
.png)
