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.
We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river.
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
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
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
yes
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
really i want the internet
it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
not so on: yvf(wthw)
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?