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

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.

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

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

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

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

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

It Will Get Lighter

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

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

confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.

the site i am dreaming

you have a beautiful account btw