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.

in a post. I want to be remembered

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.

Style

Better Lift

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

really i want the internet

as in

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

"Put a blanket."
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

we can only engage in such a way

so the method has to be autonomous

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

propensity within someone

brb i will read and reply sincerely

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.