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 got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

It Will Get Lighter

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

hiding from the rain

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.

I Write Goodbye Letter

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

...

...

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

this will be about a slug
part of an old note. It will get lighter.

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class