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.

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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.

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.

IWGD

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

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

no longer writing in the third person

Slug

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

the site i am dreaming

It Will Get Lighter

this will be about a slug

like first name

lol

that looks like my instagram account

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

kind of mythopoesis