a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

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

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

13, H, grate

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.

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

in a post. I want to be remembered

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

it is hopeful

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 i respect your search

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

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

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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

Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

send your tumblr

idk

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

your feed looks like my tumblr