Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
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.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
in a post. I want to be remembered
I am below everything.
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
but i respect your search
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
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
brb i will read and reply sincerely
and the fake qualifier
your feed looks like my tumblr
autonomy of learning