so an active mazelike process

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

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.

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

I am below everything.

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

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

"Put a blanket."

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

yes

isaac

barren land

idk

fw

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

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

or never left

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

send your tumblr