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I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

currently

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.

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.

Today I felt like starting

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Picture

Rain, starting

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day. I created this site.

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

13, H, grate

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate