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
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
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.
in a post. I want to be remembered
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
it is hopeful
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?
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.I am below everything.
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank.
We look out over the river to a block of luxury flats built on the site of some old docks. It would be nice to live right there. Yes.
Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
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.
They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.