One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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'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.

IWGD

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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

it is hopeful

"Put a blanket."

not their contents

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

we can only engage in such a way

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i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

what do you think my name is

Rain, starting

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

is everyoneback on tumblr now

so at the end

its performative

isaac

abrar?

autonomy of learning

idk