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.

we can only engage in such a way

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
"Put a blanket."

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

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

Rain, starting

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

I am below everything.

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

division of reality is straying away from it

in a post. I want to be remembered

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

It Will Get Lighter

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

really i want the internet

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

brb i will read and reply sincerely

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting