isaac

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.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

magnetisation/form

we can only engage in such a way

as in

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.

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

plato

whats your name?

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

no longer writing in the third person

yeah

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

much more tactility


that looks like my instagram account

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

isaac newton

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

Rain, starting

i love it here