It Will Get Lighter

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

It Will Get Lighter

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

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

Worse Lift


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

1

in a post. I want to be remembered


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

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

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

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.

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

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.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

no longer writing in the third person

Style

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch


Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41


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

I am below everything.


and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

As we're stood there I notice a middle-aged woman staring at us across the room. I'm trying to catch her gaze, but its kind of vacant. I guess she sees me looking and considers it to be an invitation. She floats over to us in this strange dazed way, and on the approach I realise she's staring at (through?) my Korean colleague / fresh meat. She's saying wow, wow, wow. She seems genuinely so delighted, so shocked, so elated.

confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.