so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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.

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

Picture

Better Lift

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03


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

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

Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

Style

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

...

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

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue

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

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.