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

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.

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

yes

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Rain, starting

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.

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

It Will Get Lighter


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

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

no longer writing in the third person

1

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike


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.