IWGD

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

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 want to live the knowledge too live the content

it is hopeful

It Will Get Lighter

that looks like my instagram account

propensity within someone

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

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

not their contents

plato

no like which do people call me

what do you think my name is

autonomy of learning

i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason

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.

think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life