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.

        13       |
                |
                |
            H   |
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. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

but really the thing should be autonomous

13, H, grate

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

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

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

...

was it worth it

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

no longer writing in the third person

But seriously, thank you, Jack

I Write Goodbye Letter

wait what is that

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

Thank you for telling me that I'm failing to see how I'm reproducing the dynamics I'm trying to critique by only describing my Korean colleague / fresh meat and the black girl in relation to others and myself.