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

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

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

it is hopeful


Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

no longer writing in the third person


as in

mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation

my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given

division of reality is straying away from it

propensity within someone

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

plato

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

is this you as well

It Will Get Lighter

send link




magnetises a pin

⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

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

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.

She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.

1


kind of mythopoesis

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

feel you