Rain, starting


hello reader,

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.

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

December 2025

the site i am dreaming

Slug

in a post. I want to be remembered

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.

I Write Goodbye Letter

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 21:54:03

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

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.

It Will Get Lighter

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

It Will Get Lighter

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08