in a post. I want to be remembered

Picture

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.

Rain, starting

hiding from the rain

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

no like which do people call me

so at the end

like first name

we need to be deconstructing our identities

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

feel you

as in

isaac

ion

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

isaac newton

you have a beautiful account btw

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.