And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.

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

13, H, grate

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

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



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.

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting


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

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

Better Lift

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

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