Slug

i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

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

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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.

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

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

in a post. I want to be remembered

Picture

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

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.


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.

no longer writing in the third person

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

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.

I am below everything.

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

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.

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

feel you

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf