She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

Lift Analysis

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

so an active mazelike process

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

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.

I am below everything.

yes

Can I see

really i want the internet

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

Rain, starting

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within 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.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

brb i will read and reply sincerely

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.

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

Better Lift

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

kind of mythopoesis