Today I felt like starting

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

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

kind of mythopoesis

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

Thank you, Jack

it is hopeful

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.


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.


but i respect your search

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

IWGD

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

13, H, grate

i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

...

confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.

i see a website