December 2025

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

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.

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

Style

hiding from the rain

Picture

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

it is hopeful

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

Worse Lift

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

I Write Goodbye Letter

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

Can I see

I'm getting bored and he can tell, so he shifts the topic towards me. He tells me he'd spotted me chatting to a girl earlier, a black girl, and asks what I thought of her, if I liked her. I mimed affirmatively.

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

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