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

...

I Write Goodbye Letter

2 (actually index). two is company

it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

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

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

...

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.

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

but i respect your search

not so on: yvf(wthw)

IWGD

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

send link

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️

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

was it worth it

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

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

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

...

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

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.

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

you have a beautiful account btw

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

and the fake qualifier

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

i really havent

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it