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.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

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.


Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

hiding from the rain

13, H, grate

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.

autonomy of learning

Style

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

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

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

what do you mean

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

have you read

whats your name?