They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

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?

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

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

Style

"Put a blanket."

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

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

It Will Get Lighter

I am below everything.

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

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.

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?