13       |
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            H   |
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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.

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.

Better Lift

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

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

no longer writing in the third person

as in

i have read not even 1 book

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

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

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

like first name

whats your name?

was it worth it

you cannot feed someone truth

not their contents

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

abrar?

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

feel you

Better Lift

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

Thank you, Jack

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

plato