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

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

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?

really i want the internet

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 textwall is as much for me as it is for you

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

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

propensity within someone

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

like magnets

magnetises a pin

i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things

what do you mean

sorry i am texting like a slav

i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

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

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

I am below everything.

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

as in

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.

plato

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