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.

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.

It Will Get Lighter

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

it is hopeful

13, H, grate

hiding from the rain

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

but i respect your search

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

really i want the internet

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

Thank you, Jack

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos