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 don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason



1

the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.


After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Style

Better Lift

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

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

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 wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

        13       |
                |
                |
            H   |
                |
                |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

fw

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

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

you cannot feed someone truth

your feed looks like my tumblr

so at the end

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now