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.

Mon, 01 Dec 2025 23:38:15

i really havent


part of an old note. 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.

...

confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.

Slug

It Will Get Lighter

the site i am dreaming

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.

Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:

Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.

I Write Goodbye Letter

that looks like my instagram account

my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given

December 2025

i have read not even 1 book

2 (actually index). two is company

Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl

isaac

It Will Get Lighter

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.

Style

your feed looks like my tumblr