okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

in a post. I want to be remembered

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

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.

hiding from the rain

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue

13, H, grate

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

kind of mythopoesis

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

        13       |
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            H   |
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The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

Style

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

Rain, starting

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

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

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