as in

really i want the internet

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

Style

kind of mythopoesis

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

you have a beautiful account btw

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

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.

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

Slug

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

god being the centre magnet

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

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.

no like which do people call me