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.
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox."Put a blanket."
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
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
you have a beautiful account btw
no longer writing in the third person
Better Lift