this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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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?

IWGD


FOUNDING DOCUMENT

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.

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

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

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

Slug

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

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

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

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

not so on: yvf(wthw)

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

...

i really havent