They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.
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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.
really i want 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
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
...
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
not so on: yvf(wthw)
And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.
wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me
you cannot feed someone truth
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46