no longer writing in the third person

currently


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.

Style

Worse Lift

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.

not their contents

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

December 2025

its performative

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations: