It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason
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
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.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
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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