nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

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


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.

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.

it is hopeful

no longer writing in the third person

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

i see a website

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.

Rain, starting

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

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

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

i really havent

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

hiding from the rain

Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class