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

and the fake qualifier

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

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.

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

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.

is this you as well

so an active mazelike process

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.

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

i want to do that too

bro i read nothing in my life

yeah

like first name

autonomy of learning

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.

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

lol

i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason