My inability to confront the old racist failed actor is distracting me. I decide not to tell her about it.
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
I am below everything.
as in
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.
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
Can I see
okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate
no longer writing in the third person
i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls
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.
really i want the internet
i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50