hiding from the rain
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.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.
Can I see
you have a beautiful account btw
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
not their contents
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.really i want the internet
i am quite illiterate on producing technology
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
propensity within someone
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
"Put a blanket."
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?
its performative
Lift Analysis