a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
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
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl
hiding from the rain
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.no longer writing in the third person
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?
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.
Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?
what do you mean
so the method has to be autonomous
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
we can only engage in such a way
i love it here