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.
is this you as well
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
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.
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
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.
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.i was tempted to lie about my name
the site i am dreaming
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
send link
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext