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"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful
amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting
i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
fw
idk
lol
what do you mean
hiding from the rain
your feed looks like my tumblr
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
propensity within someone
magnetises a pin
i really havent
what do you think my name is
it is hopeful
"Put a blanket."
as in
you cannot feed someone truth
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 a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
plato
ion
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.
its performative
feel you