i really havent
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
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.
no longer writing in the third person
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
Today I felt like starting
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
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
kind of mythopoesis