hiding from the rain


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

not their contents

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

Overall meaning: The dream seems to explore vulnerability, unspoken emotion, and the tension between connection and isolation. It suggests you may be processing intense feelings of longing or missed opportunities, and your subconscious is guiding you to acknowledge, release, or transform them.

i really havent

abrar?

no like which do people call me

i was tempted to lie about my name

what do you think my name is

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

bro i read nothing in my life

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

or never left

i love it here

yeah

all that is to say

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

Picture

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

that looks like my instagram account

Her English is poor but she manages a brief introduction before getting to the point. She asks if she can touch his face. She's already reaching out and gesturing at it. Koreans are way too polite, he's just laughing awkwardly. I put my hand kind of between them and wave it to try and indicate no to her. I'm still in fucking mime mode. I say no, but it's not really to her, or to him, just no, in general. This is all too weird. Dejected, she departs with a comment about having never seen someone like him before.

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

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 Write Goodbye Letter

like first name

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

we can only engage in such a way

was it worth it

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

sorry i am texting like a slav