no longer writing in the third person

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.

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.

Rain, starting

It Will Get Lighter

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

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

13, H, grate

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

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

confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.

what do you think my name is

ahnaf abrar

plato

we need to be deconstructing our identities

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

have you read