Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.
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
mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
but i respect your search
okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models
its performative
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
wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me
magnetisation/form
you have a beautiful account btw
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.
yes
no longer writing in the third person
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
i see a website
"Put a blanket."
its good
i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse
like magnets
you cannot feed someone truth
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
so an active mazelike process