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

I Write Goodbye Letter

...

...

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.

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

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

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

the site i am dreaming

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

. way too specific.

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.

"Put a blanket."

like first name

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

theres a kind of a cowardice to generative art that i want to avoid though. i want the kind of relationship to this thing that a game designer has to a game engine

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

whats your name?

i dont understand magnetisation

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.