it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful
no longer writing in the third person
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
fw
like first name
i did until you asked which kind of gave it away
we need to be deconstructing our identities
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
sorry i am texting like a slav
i really havent
...
which magnetises chains of pins
the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book
i love it here
thank you
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
is everyoneback on tumblr now
and the fake qualifier
in a post. I want to be remembered