send your tumblr

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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

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.

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

...

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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.

magnetisation/form

magnetises a pin

have you read

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

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

is this you as well

like first name

it is hopeful

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.