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wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me
"Put a blanket."
i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
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.
wait what is that
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
it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful
it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
like first name
i dont understand magnetisation