plato

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.

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression


It Will Get Lighter

IWGD

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

in a post. I want to be remembered

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

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

Better Lift

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

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

plato

abrar?

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.

feel you

its good

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

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.

so magnetisation means the divine spirit acting thru u endowing you with its qualities

i dont understand magnetisation

kind of mythopoesis

bro i read nothing in my life

sorry i am texting like a slav

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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.