"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
no longer writing in the third person
but i respect your search
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
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.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
kind of mythopoesis
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08