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.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

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.

I am below everything.

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


a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

in a post. I want to be remembered

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

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.

no longer writing in the third person

Better Lift

1

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.