lol

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

It Will Get Lighter

no longer writing in the third person

it is hopeful


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.

Better Lift

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

It's dusk in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox. It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache. I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

1

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

Lift Analysis

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.


I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?


I am below everything.


We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

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

and the fake qualifier

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life