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
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
its good
I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
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.
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.
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.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.
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49
it is hopeful
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
I am below everything.
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
no longer writing in the third person
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
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.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
He went in there with a camera to film it before he moved out of the building. He didn't think anyone would believe the story if he didn't have proof.
way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it