Arquitecta

I had an idea today tonight this moment, ago whereupon I make a sandwich which can be assembled as such if the people at home desire this and me like: one BIG slice of bread. another BIG slice of bread. peanut butter BUT second. and then first raspberry jam. after that there is honey that has to come from a bottle that is a little bit sticky on both sides and then you can put the sides together and make a sandwich even before you come back to the room (that depends on your own mental configuration) i had an idea, like, this is so dull - really, what a droll and dull rote action and routine. i'm going to scroll through reels while i do this. instagram doesn't have auto scroll. i couldn't find auto scroll on youtube reels. auto scroll on tiktok with your sound completely off lights up the room.

it is honestly like such a good thing to do and to say that these videos and this little world still exists outside of me even while my back is turned and i one-by-one put the ingredients (except for the two big slices (pluralities involved, of course, this is cointosser22 time) of bread) back.

there is one and there are three and there are five and then there is me my hands are so clean right now and you might be asking me, say, what is the next ingredient? is there like a sixth ingredient (because, two slices of bread, one peanut butter and one raspberry jam spread and honey spread make just five) ? and well yes but it is not love it is hatred

i am trying to tell you how it is

i want to find the perversion in the stuff i post on the internet being scraped and fed to an LLM. you have no choice but to be inspired by me, but it is not my fault and i want to see my own post and ask for it to be written in an irish accent.

to think is to surround yourself with yourself; to surround your outsides with your insides

when i was sixteen my friend told me he would adopt a stream-of-consciousness writing style for an english assignment - i said, what a crock of horseshit