"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
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.
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant
articulate
