Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

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

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

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.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

no longer writing in the third person

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

1

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful
"Put a blanket."

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

Rain, starting

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

Today I felt like starting