what do you think my name is

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

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.

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


FOUNDING DOCUMENT

currently

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.

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

It Will Get Lighter

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


in a post. I want to be remembered

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

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

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

brb i will read and reply sincerely

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41