god being the centre magnet

propensity within someone

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

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.

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

so the method has to be autonomous

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

Lift Analysis

in a post. I want to be remembered

She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.

"Put a blanket."

really i want the internet

division of reality is straying away from it

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

not their contents

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

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

I imagine that some lab-grown 29-year-old from Woking with a mind honed to identify individuals who fit the profile of Real Londoner (as conceived of by 50 opinion-polled racist builders and their wives in the Midlands) picks a stubborn local who can still somehow afford to live here and passes him along to some creative studio.

It Will Get Lighter

and the fake qualifier

that looks like my instagram account

have you read