Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

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.

Style

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

13, H, grate

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

"Put a blanket."

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

Can I see

Thank you for telling me that I'm failing to see how I'm reproducing the dynamics I'm trying to critique by only describing my Korean colleague / fresh meat and the black girl in relation to others and myself.

i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

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