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

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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

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.

Rain, starting

Worse Lift

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.

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

hiding from the rain

so at the end

no like which do people call me

no longer writing in the third person

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

isaac

lol

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

ion

so an active mazelike process

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

that looks like my instagram account

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.

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

its good

i dont understand magnetisation