One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

"Put a blanket."

yeah

so an active mazelike process

sorry i am texting like a slav

isaac

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people

which magnetises chains of pins

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

no i haven't really read anything

so at the end