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

        13       |
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            H   |
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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.

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.

It Will Get Lighter

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

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

hiding from the rain

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch