currently
it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
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.
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
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.
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
Today I felt like starting
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.
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
hiding from the rain
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.Better Lift
no i haven't really read anything
its performative
think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now
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