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

hiding from the rain

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

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

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

One of the birds shoots out of 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.

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

but really the thing should be autonomous

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

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

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

brb i will read and reply sincerely

"Put a blanket."

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

send link

ahnaf abrar

the site i am dreaming

idk

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

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

lol

fw

barren land