December 2025

13, H, grate

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.


ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

send link

2 (actually index). two is company

We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

I Write Goodbye Letter

"Put a blanket."

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

wait what is that

i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue

is this you as well

feel you

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

i love it here