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.

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.

in a post. I want to be remembered

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

Lift Analysis

13, H, grate

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50


IWGD

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

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

this will be about a slug

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

i really havent