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.

in a post. I want to be remembered

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

isaac

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.

1

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

i see a website

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

as in

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation

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

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

you cannot feed someone truth

i have read not even 1 book

hiding from the rain

send your tumblr

Picture