Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

Mon, 01 Dec 2025 23:38:15

it is hopeful

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

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. 

        13       |
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            H   |
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. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
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It Will Get Lighter

no longer writing in the third person

1

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.

Style

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

its good

plato

feel you

like first name

i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason