Rain, starting


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.



"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

no longer writing in the third person

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.

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


Better Lift

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

Picture

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

we want to live the knowledge too live the content


you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

its performative