but i respect your search
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.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's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
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.
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.in a post. I want to be remembered
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
brb i will read and reply sincerely
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.