so at the end

really i want the internet

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

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

kind of mythopoesis

Can I see

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

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

i see a website

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.