isaac newton

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

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

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.

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

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

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

i see a website

I am below everything.

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

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

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

Worse Lift

but really the thing should be autonomous

It Will Get Lighter

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.

kind of mythopoesis

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.