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the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
kind of mythopoesis
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
hiding from the rain
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.
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03
Today I felt like starting
i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike
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.
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
but really the thing should be autonomous
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting