"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
in a post. I want to be remembered
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.
She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.
no longer writing in the third person
i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue
i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike
i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
i dont understand magnetisation
feel you
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
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
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
what do you think my name is
its good
is this you as well
send your tumblr
i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things
have you read
all that is to say
i have read not even 1 book