Better Lift

really i want the internet

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.

i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue

currently

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?

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

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

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

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.

division of reality is straying away from it

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

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Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

all that is to say

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.