Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

It's

dusk

in a post. I want to be remembered

really i want the internet

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

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.

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

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

Picture

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?

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

no longer writing in the third person

Better Lift

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

Thank you, Jack

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

Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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.

kind of mythopoesis