autonomy of learning
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
hiding from the rain
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl
"Put a blanket."
My inability to confront the old racist failed actor is distracting me. I decide not to tell her about it.
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
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 wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.
you know who you are. no more time, not like
1
. way too specific.Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03
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