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.

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?

but i respect your search

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

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext

I am below everything.

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

13, H, grate

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

Worse Lift

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

i understand

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.

I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank.

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

in a post. I want to be remembered

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

was it worth it

i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

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

plato