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.

We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river. I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the dim silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank. They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.

in a post. I want to be remembered

but i respect your search

kind of mythopoesis

I am below everything.

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

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

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.

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

Rain, starting

propensity within someone

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.

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

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

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

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

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

you have a beautiful account btw

my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given

She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.

i see a website

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