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.

no longer writing in the third person

and the fake qualifier

we need to be deconstructing our identities

is this you as well

i love it here

Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl

1

Worse Lift

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

isaac newton

god being the centre magnet

in a post. I want to be remembered

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

sorry i am texting like a slav

the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.

plato

i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason

have you read

no like which do people call me

hiding from the rain

which magnetises chains of pins

thank you