Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

Rain, starting

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

currently

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.

Picture

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

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

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

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

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 longer writing in the third person

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

we need to be deconstructing our identities

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

IWGD