kind of mythopoesis
brb i will read and reply sincerely
so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged
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.
like first name
bro i read nothing in my life
plato
ion
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 a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
i love it here
we can only engage in such a way