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

i see a website

Style

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

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

Today I felt like starting

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

like first name

so the method has to be autonomous

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

you cannot feed someone truth

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

have you read

i was tempted to lie about my name

hiding from the rain

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

kind of mythopoesis

its good

ion

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me. The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.