Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

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'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.

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

Thank you, Jack

Rain, starting


amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

its performative

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

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

Worse Lift

its good

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

we want to live the knowledge too live the content