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

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

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

hiding from the rain


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.

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

brb i will read and reply sincerely

yes

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