Today I felt like starting
...
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it
wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.Better Lift
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
we need to be deconstructing our identities
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
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
send your tumblr
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.
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."