There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
you have a beautiful account btw
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
hiding from the rain
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.
as in
you cannot feed someone truth
ahnaf abrar
okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models
i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17