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.

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

Thank you, Jack

no longer writing in the third person

i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

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

Picture

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

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.


Today I felt like starting

13, H, grate

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