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.

...

not so on: yvf(wthw)

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

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.

idk

so the method has to be autonomous

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

feel you

not their contents

isaac

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

magnetises a pin