we can only engage in such a way

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.

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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.

...

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

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.

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

and the fake qualifier



the site i am dreaming

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

lol yea

December 2025

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.

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

magnetises a pin

Style

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.


much more tactility

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.