I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

It Will Get Lighter

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.


Picture


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.

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

but really the thing should be autonomous

Better Lift

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:

2 (actually index). two is company

no longer writing in the third person

hello reader,

Better Lift

it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Style

i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue