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.

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

I am below everything.

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

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

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.

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

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

Better Lift

Rain, starting

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

you cannot feed someone truth

you have a beautiful account btw

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

but i respect your search

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.

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

not their contents

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

autonomy of learning

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

all that is to say

abrar?

Slug

wait what is that