no longer writing in the third person

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

Picture

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

I am below everything.

we need to be deconstructing our identities

you cannot feed someone truth

so at the end

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

i really havent

Rain, starting

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.

was it worth it

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

its good short few pages

not their contents

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

plato

i love it here

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

what do you think my name is

no like which do people call me

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.

ion

so an active mazelike process