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

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'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.

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

Better Lift


i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue

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


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

the site i am dreaming

division of reality is straying away from it

hiding from the rain

1

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

yes

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

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

autonomy of learning