Today I felt like starting

My inability to confront the old racist failed actor is distracting me. I decide not to tell her about it.

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

13, H, grate

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

theres a kind of a cowardice to generative art that i want to avoid though. i want the kind of relationship to this thing that a game designer has to a game engine

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.

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

Style

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

magnetisation/form

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

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

division of reality is straying away from it

Can I see

you cannot feed someone truth

as in

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

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

so at the end

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

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

Thank you, Jack

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

but i respect your search