you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

. way too specific.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

no longer writing in the third person

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.

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

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

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.

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

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.

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

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

i see a website

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

i really havent

what do you think my name is

like first name

no like which do people call me

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

Thank you, Jack