and the fake qualifier

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

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

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

Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl

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 see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

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

but i respect your search

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

kind of mythopoesis

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

i understand

is everyoneback on tumblr now

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

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

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

feel you

what do you mean

have you read