It Will Get Lighter

it is hopeful

no longer writing in the third person


Picture

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.

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

IWGD

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

i see a website

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

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03


Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

currently

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

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

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.

Thank you, Jack

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

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