Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

Lift Analysis

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

division of reality is straying away from it

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

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

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

hiding from the rain


that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

Can I see

Worse Lift

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given

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

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.

in a post. I want to be remembered

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

13, H, grate

Style

mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation

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.

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.

yes

I imagine that some lab-grown 29-year-old from Woking with a mind honed to identify individuals who fit the profile of Real Londoner (as conceived of by 50 opinion-polled racist builders and their wives in the Midlands) picks a stubborn local who can still somehow afford to live here and passes him along to some creative studio.