i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

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

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

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.

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

Worse Lift

i love it here

13, H, grate

is everyoneback on tumblr now

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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.

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

It Will Get Lighter

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

this will be about a slug

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.

2 (actually index). two is company