i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

really i want the internet

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

you have a beautiful account btw

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

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.


a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

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.

kind of mythopoesis

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

lol yea

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.

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason

no like which do people call me

is everyoneback on tumblr now

so at the end

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

its good short few pages

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting