Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

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


        13       |
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            H   |
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. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
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the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

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.

Lift Analysis

brb i will read and reply sincerely

theres a kind of a cowardice to generative art that i want to avoid though. i want the kind of relationship to this thing that a game designer has to a game engine

It Will Get Lighter

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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.

13, H, grate

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 only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

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

yes


Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

i want to do that too

Worse Lift


i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

not their contents


its performative

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