The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

Rain, starting

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

yeah

plato

send your tumblr

magnetises a pin

whats your name?

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

all that is to say

its good

what do you mean

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

we can only engage in such a way

its good

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.

which magnetises chains of pins

isaac newton

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.

or never left