After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

was it worth it

I Write Goodbye Letter

...


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

but i respect your search

i love it here

not so on: yvf(wthw)

its good

so at the end

which magnetises chains of pins

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

division of reality is straying away from it

Can I see

there is a distinction between western-modern pedagogical systems that's like text-based as in a legal method but there is an idea of "pathshala" or "guru shissho"/ "porompora" i mean how masters relayed knowledge to the student by (oral) transmission often by memorising books. so what was taught was always interactive. knowledge was interactive, you spoke with people rather than read texts.

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

isaac


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.

i understand

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

send link

like magnets

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

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

13, H, grate

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time