there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

yeah

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

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

Better Lift

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

"Put a blanket."

IWGD

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

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

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

currently

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

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.

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

no longer writing in the third person

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

1

barren land

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

all that is to say

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.

is everyoneback on tumblr now