that looks like my instagram account

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

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

Today I felt like starting

no longer writing in the third person

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.

autonomy of learning

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

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

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.

as in

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

IWGD

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Lift Analysis

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

we want to live the knowledge too live the content