i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

It Will Get Lighter

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!

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.

and the fake qualifier

wait what is that

2 (actually index). two is company

the site i am dreaming

It Will Get Lighter

Lift Analysis

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

13, H, grate

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49


Slug

December 2025

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

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.

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.

I am below everything.

Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?