I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

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.

Style

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch


She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.

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

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

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
"Put a blanket."
Rain, starting

Better Lift

Thank you, Jack

no longer writing in the third person

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

magnetises a pin

abrar?