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.
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
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.
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
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.
Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever