you cannot feed someone truth

hiding from the rain

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

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

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Rain, starting

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

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

you have a beautiful account btw

i see a website

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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

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

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

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

Thank you, Jack

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.

brb i will read and reply sincerely

i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue