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.
kind of mythopoesis
i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned
and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre
of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue
