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.

1


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.

it is hopeful

plato

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

Lift Analysis

really i want the internet

...

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

...

They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.

it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!

the site i am dreaming

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.


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.

Thank you, Jack

We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river.

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