i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

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.

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Today I felt like starting

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.

a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext

currently

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

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.


The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

magnetises a pin

It Will Get Lighter

plato

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

in a post. I want to be remembered

all that is to say

no i haven't really read anything

and the fake qualifier

what do you think my name is

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

Picture

no like which do people call me

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.