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.
brb i will read and reply sincerely
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.
in a post. I want to be remembered
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
Lift Analysis
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
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.
Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03
but i respect your search
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
you have a beautiful account btw
hiding from the rain
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
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.