no longer writing in the third person
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.in a post. I want to be remembered
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
...
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.
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them
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's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
plato
magnetisation/form
its performative
send your tumblr
Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.