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.

Rain, starting

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.

Today I felt like starting

Lift Analysis

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

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

its performative

Better Lift

kind of mythopoesis

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

was it worth it

division of reality is straying away from it

its good

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

plato

not their contents

my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given