i see a website
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
13 |
|
|
H |
|
|
. . . . |
. . . . |
. . . . |
. . . . |
|
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.
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.
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
no longer writing in the third person
Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
in a post. I want to be remembered
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
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.
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03