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.

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.

It Will Get Lighter

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

not their contents

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

division of reality is straying away from it

propensity within someone

I am below everything.

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

autonomy of learning

mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation

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

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

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.

Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl

but really the thing should be autonomous

no longer writing in the third person

in a post. I want to be remembered

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.