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.

I Write Goodbye Letter

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

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Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

brb i will read and reply sincerely

really i want the internet

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

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Worse Lift

its performative

Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation

kind of mythopoesis

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.

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.

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

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

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.

but really the thing should be autonomous