I Write Goodbye Letter

not so on: yvf(wthw)

brb i will read and reply sincerely

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

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.

so an active mazelike process

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

⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️

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.

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

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.

I am below everything.

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:

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

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.

Thank you, Jack