i have read not even 1 book
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
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?
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.
I am below everything.
currently
Today I felt like starting
And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03
it is hopeful
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book
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.
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
you know who you are. no more time, not like
1
. way too specific....
Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.
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.
Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?
...
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