Windrush Art Kid Oligarch


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.

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

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Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

brb i will read and reply sincerely

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time

Style

and the fake qualifier

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

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.

but i respect your search

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.

It Will Get Lighter

magnetises a pin

really i want the internet

i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

feel you

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.