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.

no longer writing in the third person

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

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.

it is hopeful



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.


Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

hiding from the rain

like first name

i love it here

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

so at the end

which magnetises chains of pins

whats your name?

fw

or never left

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

its good short few pages

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.

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.

thank you