I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
not their contents
Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24
One of the birds shoots out of 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.
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
that looks like my instagram account
Today I felt like starting
no longer writing in the third person
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.I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things
you know who you are. no more time, not like
1
. way too specific.After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
"Put a blanket."
i have read not even 1 book
Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:
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.
sorry i am texting like a slav
was it worth it
I imagine that some lab-grown 29-year-old from Woking with a mind honed to identify individuals who fit the profile of Real Londoner (as conceived of by 50 opinion-polled racist builders and their wives in the Midlands) picks a stubborn local who can still somehow afford to live here and passes him along to some creative studio.
isaac newton