something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
no longer writing in the third person
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after
dusk
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc."Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
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.
Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24
I am below everything.
Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13
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.
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
Better Lift
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.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.