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

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

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

hiding from the rain

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


Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
it is hopeful

1

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

but i respect your search

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.

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

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

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.