It Will Get Lighter

really i want the internet

it is hopeful

no longer writing in the third person

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.

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

as in

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

autonomy of learning

i want to do that too

no i haven't really read anything

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

isaac