i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

you have a beautiful account btw

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

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

Picture

        13       |
                |
                |
            H   |
                |
                |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

currently

Thank you, Jack

but i respect your search

Better Lift

Rain, starting

13, H, grate

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

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.

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.

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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