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.
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
it is hopeful
no longer writing in the third person
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
but really the thing should be autonomous
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.Today I felt like starting
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.
"Put a blanket."
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.
brb i will read and reply sincerely
okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models
no like which do people call me
i love it here
plato