Rain, starting

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

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

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.

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.

        13       |
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            H   |
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. . . .         |
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There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.


Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

hiding from the rain

no longer writing in the third person

Today I felt like starting

in a post. I want to be remembered

It Will Get Lighter


It Will Get Lighter

i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

plato

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

i want to do that too

I am below everything.

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.

we need to be deconstructing our identities

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting


isaac

send link

abrar?

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?


or never left

like magnets

its good