Worse Lift

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

Rain, starting

so an active mazelike process

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

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

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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

13, H, grate

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

It Will Get Lighter

Thank you, Jack

The old failed actor genuinely believed this girl was of a lesser race. He believed she shouldn't be talking with me, shouldn't be here at this party, shouldn't be here in this country. He wanted a white England. I didn't really challenge him on it. Sometimes I justify it with thoughts like I was drunk, or baffled, or it isn't an argument I'll win, or he can't hear me anyway, or whatever. I didn't argue with him. I just cut off his rant and left with a pathetic "In a bit."

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

It Will Get Lighter

we need to be deconstructing our identities

what do you think my name is

mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

and the fake qualifier

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

like first name

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

no like which do people call me

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.