Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike
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.
really i want the internet
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
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
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
I am below everything.
the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.
but really the thing should be autonomous
wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
no longer writing in the third person
brb i will read and reply sincerely