Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
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Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59
Better Lift
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.
in a post. I want to be remembered
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.
Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after
dusk
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
currently
Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41
Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17
"Put a blanket."
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.
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."