Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
no longer writing in the third person
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.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
it is hopeful
I am below everything.
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.
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
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.
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
currently
Better Lift
Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after
dusk
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24