in a post. I want to be remembered
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.
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.
I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.
"Put a blanket."
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
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
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
it is hopeful
you have a beautiful account btw
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
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
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
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
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
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.