...
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.
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?
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.
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
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
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
no longer writing in the third person
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.