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.

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

13, H, grate

        13       |
                |
                |
            H   |
                |
                |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

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

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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 see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

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.

1

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

really i want the internet

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

Picture

Better Lift

in a post. I want to be remembered

"Put a blanket."

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos