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.

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

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 

        13       |
                |
                |
            H   |
                |
                |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

i see a website

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.

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

we can only engage in such a way

no longer writing in the third person

like first name

Slug

ahnaf abrar

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

December 2025

we need to be deconstructing our identities

i really havent

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

...

autonomy of learning

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

FOUNDING DOCUMENT