...

i really havent

December 2025

and the fake qualifier

this will be about a slug

Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.

the site i am dreaming

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

...

I Write Goodbye Letter


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

autonomy of learning

I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank.

They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.

Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

. way too specific.