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

we need to be deconstructing our identities

Style

Better Lift

in a post. I want to be remembered

Thank you, Jack

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.


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'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.


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

idk

like magnets

i understand

as in

no longer writing in the third person

like first name


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

magnetises a pin