...

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.


I Write Goodbye Letter

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

i understand

the site i am dreaming

god being the centre magnet

was it worth it

its performative

It Will Get Lighter

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


Thank you, Jack

It Will Get Lighter

division of reality is straying away from it

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

its good short few pages

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

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

send link

hiding from the rain

plato

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.

Picture

my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given

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.

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

magnetisation/form