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 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.

the site i am dreaming

i was tempted to lie about my name

ahnaf abrar

magnetisation/form

Worse Lift

I am below everything.

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

Today I felt like starting

i want to do that too

its good

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

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

its performative

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

and the fake qualifier

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

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

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41