I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

1


sorry i am texting like a slav

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

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.

no longer writing in the third person

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

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

it is hopeful

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

you have a beautiful account btw

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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.

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.