13, H, grate

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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.

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

no longer writing in the third person

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

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

really i want the internet

kind of mythopoesis

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

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

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


Today I felt like starting

your feed looks like my tumblr

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

sorry i am texting like a slav