and the fake qualifier

1

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.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

Picture

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

Better Lift

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

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

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

the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.