with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.

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

"Put a blanket."

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

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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

We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river.

We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.

It Will Get Lighter

Can I see

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

It Will Get Lighter

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

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kind of mythopoesis

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

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

I Write Goodbye Letter