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

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

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

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
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Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

hiding from the rain

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

in a post. I want to be remembered

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.

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

Picture

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

Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl

Rain, starting

Better Lift

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

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.

I am below everything.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

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