Thank you, Jack

hiding from the rain

She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.

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

in a post. I want to be remembered

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

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

"Put a blanket."

i really havent


was it worth it

2 (actually index). two is company