we need to be deconstructing our identities

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

It Will Get Lighter

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

currently

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

it is hopeful

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.

send link

plato

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

isaac newton

ion

"Put a blanket."

Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

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

no longer writing in the third person

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying