I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

but really the thing should be autonomous

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

no longer writing in the third person

1

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.

Better Lift

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

Lift Analysis

hiding from the rain

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

Picture

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

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

Rain, starting