After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

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.

hiding from the rain

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

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.

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

as in

division of reality is straying away from it

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

lol

abrar?

in a post. I want to be remembered

i have read not even 1 book

i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things

Today I felt like starting

magnetisation/form

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

bro i read nothing in my life

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them