We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river.

i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue

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

Better Lift

really i want the internet

i see a website

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

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

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

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

so an active mazelike process

that looks like my instagram account

no longer writing in the third person

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.