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

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.

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

Can I see

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

1

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

currently

brb i will read and reply sincerely

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me