the site i am dreaming
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.
autonomy of learning
i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
i want to do that too
They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.
what do you think my name is
feel you
whats your name?
we need to be deconstructing our identities
isaac
Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl
we can only engage in such a way
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.