brb i will read and reply sincerely

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

IWGD

Today I felt like starting

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.


13, H, grate

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

        13       |
                |
                |
            H   |
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                |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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



confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.

i was tempted to lie about my name

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

yeah

stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time

2 (actually index). two is company

i understand