your feed looks like my tumblr

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

no longer writing in the third person

Can I see

Today I felt like starting

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

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

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

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.

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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

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

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

not so on: yvf(wthw)

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.