send your tumblr

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.

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

Rain, starting

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

Today I felt like starting

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. 


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...

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.

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

ion

its performative

i love it here

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

god being the centre magnet

magnetisation basically means the induction of divine form unto you