not their contents
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
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.
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.
Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.it is hopeful
Better Lift
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike
it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful
a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it
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.
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting