that looks like my instagram account

I Write Goodbye Letter

magnetisation basically means the induction of divine form unto you

god being the centre magnet

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

your feed looks like my tumblr

ion

its good

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

have you read

ahnaf abrar

its good

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

isaac newton

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

i was tempted to lie about my 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

whats your name?

bro i read nothing in my life

like magnets

and the fake qualifier

i really havent

no like which do people call me

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?

i want to do that too

...

it is hopeful

As we're stood there I notice a middle-aged woman staring at us across the room. I'm trying to catch her gaze, but its kind of vacant. I guess she sees me looking and considers it to be an invitation. She floats over to us in this strange dazed way, and on the approach I realise she's staring at (through?) my Korean colleague / fresh meat. She's saying wow, wow, wow. She seems genuinely so delighted, so shocked, so elated.

I catch him on his way to the bar, telling him about this old racist failed actor that I'm avoiding. That I'm failing to confront. I get the sense he's avoiding people too. We get our drinks and find a corner. We chat for a bit. He's managing just fine.

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.

And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.