god being the centre magnet

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.


"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

it is hopeful

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

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.

no longer writing in the third person

a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext

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

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.

its performative

Better Lift

but i respect your search

really i want the internet

IWGD

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.

Style

Worse Lift

I am below everything.

13, H, grate

in a post. I want to be remembered

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

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

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.

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

        13       |
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            H   |
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. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.