Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

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.

plato

Picture

hiding from the rain

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.

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

have you read

propensity within someone

not their contents

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people

i love it here

magnetisation/form

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

i understand

so the method has to be autonomous

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

you cannot feed someone truth

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

we need to be deconstructing our identities