Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

i was tempted to lie about my name

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

brb i will read and reply sincerely

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

Lift Analysis

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

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

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

Better Lift

but i respect your search

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

Picture

yes

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

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.

we can only engage in such a way

division of reality is straying away from it

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

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

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate