kind of mythopoesis
i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then
its performative
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
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.
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
it is hopeful
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59
wait what is that