barren land
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.
no longer writing in the third person
i see a website
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
Better Lift
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.
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.
We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.
Mon, 01 Dec 2025 23:38:15