They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

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

Rain, starting

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.

Today I felt like starting

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

we need to be deconstructing our identities

your feed looks like my tumblr

13, H, grate

magnetises a pin

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

"Put a blanket."

yeah

and the fake qualifier

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

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

its good

whats your name?

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people

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