somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out. 

        13       |
                |
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            H   |
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. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

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

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

Can I see

i want to do that too

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

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

was it worth it

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

no like which do people call me

Rain, starting

we need to be deconstructing our identities

"Put a blanket."

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

It Will Get Lighter

what do you think my name is

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.

like first name