December 2025

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that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

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

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.

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

it is hopeful

...

I Write Goodbye Letter

this will be about a slug

Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?


the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

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

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, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then