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

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

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

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

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

Picture

I am below everything.

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

Style

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 really the thing should be autonomous

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

no longer writing in the third person

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.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

It's

dusk

in a post. I want to be remembered

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