so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them



I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

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.

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

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.

Lift Analysis

Style

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

hiding from the rain

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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

i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue


send link

its performative

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

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.

not their contents

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos