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

really i want the internet

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

you cannot feed someone truth

but i respect your search

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

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.

It Will Get Lighter

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

so an active mazelike process

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

Picture

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

brb i will read and reply sincerely

"Put a blanket."

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.

1

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

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

in a post. I want to be remembered

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46