like first name

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

no longer writing in the third person

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

isaac newton

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

December 2025

Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

Slug

no like which do people call me

It Will Get Lighter

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

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.

and the fake qualifier

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the site i am dreaming