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.

no longer writing in the third person

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

Today I felt like starting

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

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

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

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

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

Can I see

"Put a blanket."