"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
."No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
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.
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
no longer writing in the third person
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
magnetisation/form
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
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.
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things
Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24
propensity within someone
so at the end
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
its performative
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
you cannot feed someone truth
and the fake qualifier
we need to be deconstructing our identities