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

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

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

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

"Put a blanket."

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

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

in a post. I want to be remembered

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

no longer writing in the third person

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.

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

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

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

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt