I Write Goodbye Letter

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

Rain, starting

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

IWGD

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

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.

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.

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

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

no i haven't really read anything

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

yeah

Picture

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

i understand

have you read

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.

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

whats your name?

i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things

ion