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.
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.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.
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.