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.
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.
Can I see
13 |
|
|
H |
|
|
. . . . |
. . . . |
. . . . |
. . . . |
|
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
yeah
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
propensity within someone
i really havent
which magnetises chains of pins
i was tempted to lie about my name
we want to live the knowledge too live the content
We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river.
I am below everything.
not their contents
you cannot feed someone truth
i love it here
thank you
and the fake qualifier
i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls