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

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

Rain, starting

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.

Today I felt like starting

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

it is hopeful

One of the birds shoots out of the tree. 

        13       |
                |
                |
            H   |
                |
                |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

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

my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given

I am below everything.

ion

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

isaac

kind of mythopoesis

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

feel you

i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason

i dont understand magnetisation

sorry i am texting like a slav

its good

its good short few pages

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