Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

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

something religious, a kind of complex, it will get lighter, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

sorry i am texting like a slav

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.

ahnaf abrar

a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext

which magnetises chains of pins

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.

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

its good short few pages

send link

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

abrar?

magnetises a pin

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people


Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

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

Rain, starting

and the fake qualifier