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.
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
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 heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox. 13 |
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I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
Better Lift
I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
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
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03
yes
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.