so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

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.

i see a website

...

        13       |
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            H   |
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. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
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"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

It Will Get Lighter

...

I Write Goodbye Letter

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

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.

I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank.

We look out over the river to a block of luxury flats built on the site of some old docks. It would be nice to live right there. Yes.

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

Better Lift

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.

We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.