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.

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.

in a post. I want to be remembered

Better Lift

It Will Get Lighter

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.

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

Better Lift



Can I see

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

Slug

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

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

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

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.

hiding from the rain