Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49
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 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
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.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
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.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
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
Can I see
you have a beautiful account btw
think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now
to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos
so at the end
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.Actual born-Londoners aren't LARPing like this, they sold their shite family home for a million pounds and moved to Malaga years ago. They have their culture and they've taken it elsewhere.