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.

its good

Thank you, Jack

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.

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

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

Can I see

a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext

i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

yes

was it worth it

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

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

Lift Analysis

Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

i really havent

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

is everyoneback on tumblr now