I am below everything.

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.


wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me



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



"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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.

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it


no longer writing in the third person

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.

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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

as in

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

is everyoneback on tumblr now

your feed looks like my tumblr

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.