really i want the internet
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
kind of mythopoesis
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
yes
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-"
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.
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged