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.

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


it is hopeful


Today I felt like starting

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

brb i will read and reply sincerely

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

no longer writing in the third person

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

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.

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

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

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

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