to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

but i respect your search

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

I am below everything.

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

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

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.

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

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

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

kind of mythopoesis

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.

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

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.