She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
but really the thing should be autonomous
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03
Today I felt like starting
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
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 know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
hiding from the rain
so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged
Lift Analysis
the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
sorry i am texting like a slav
okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models
Thank you, Jack
no longer writing in the third person
your feed looks like my tumblr