nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

...

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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the site i am dreaming

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

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.

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

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.

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.

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

i really havent

I Write Goodbye Letter

no longer writing in the third person

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

ion

what do you mean

we need to be deconstructing our identities

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."