no longer writing in the third person
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
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.
hello reader,
December 2025
...
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
the site i am dreaming
and the fake qualifier
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.
was it worth it
Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.
division of reality is straying away from it
way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it
autonomy of learning
which magnetises chains of pins
magnetises a pin
we need to be deconstructing our identities
i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
whats your name?
plato
amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting
...
yeah
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08
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.