13, H, grate

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

what do you think my name is

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

in a post. I want to be remembered

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

no longer writing in the third person

I am below everything.

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.


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.

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

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

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

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it