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

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

"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

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

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

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

"Put a blanket."

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

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.

Better Lift

Worse Lift

but i respect your search


Thank you, Jack

lol yea

hiding from the rain

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.

its performative

no longer writing in the third person

you have a beautiful account btw

not their contents

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.