I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

in a post. I want to be remembered

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

It Will Get Lighter

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

Thank you, Jack

It Will Get Lighter

and the fake qualifier

hiding from the rain

Better Lift

the site i am dreaming

send link

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.

She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.

Can I see

Lift Analysis

It Will Get Lighter

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

hello reader,

i really havent

kind of mythopoesis

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46