Picture

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

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.

It Will Get Lighter

IWGD

1

Rain, starting

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

in a post. I want to be remembered

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

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.

Thank you, Jack

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

currently

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

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