After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.
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.
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
like first name
...
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
propensity within someone
your feed looks like my tumblr
you cannot feed someone truth
Today I felt like starting
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
in a post. I want to be remembered
that looks like my instagram account
as in
plato
i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason