Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl

no like which do people call me

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

kind of mythopoesis

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.

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

its good


isaac newton

Can I see

no longer writing in the third person

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

magnetises a pin

yeah

idk

ion

is this you as well