13, H, grate

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

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.

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

"Put a blanket."

i see a website

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

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

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

Style

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

Thank you, Jack

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

autonomy of learning

all that is to say

It Will Get Lighter

Rain, starting