it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book
really i want the internet
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
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.
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then
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.
"Put a blanket."
you have a beautiful account btw
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
not so on: yvf(wthw)
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.