currently
I am below everything.
She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
not so on: yvf(wthw)
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me
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
it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️
all that is to say
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
its performative
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.
mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation
stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time