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. 

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Today I felt like starting

in a post. I want to be remembered

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

no longer writing in the third person

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

Style

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

currently

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

hiding from the rain

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

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 see a website