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

1

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.

IWGD

...

confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.

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

all that is to say

Slug

this will be about a slug

I Write Goodbye Letter

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people

FOUNDING DOCUMENT