with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

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

no longer writing in the third person

I am below everything.

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

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.

Style

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.

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

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

yeah

so at the end

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

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

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