Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

Worse Lift

so at the end

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

kind of mythopoesis

Style

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

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

but i respect your search

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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

not their contents

13, H, grate

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

in a post. I want to be remembered

isaac newton

It Will Get Lighter

yeah

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

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

wait what is that

We look out over the river to a block of luxury flats built on the site of some old docks. It would be nice to live right there. Yes. The conversation drifts to the pleasantness of warm lighting and whether anyone needs a smart home. I interrupt her to make a joke about the French Raj as he runs up the causeway. We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

It Will Get Lighter

no longer writing in the third person

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

plato

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

its good

no i haven't really read anything

We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river. I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the dim silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank. They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.

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Lift Analysis