this will be about a slug

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

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

and the fake qualifier

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

isaac

sorry i am texting like a slav

think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

ion

lol

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

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.

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

that looks like my instagram account

We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.

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.

plato

was it worth it

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.

so an active mazelike process

we need to be deconstructing our identities

I Write Goodbye Letter