IWGD

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.

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

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given

as in

Worse Lift

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.

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

currently

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

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

Better Lift

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

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 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

Thank you, Jack

I am below everything.

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

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

autonomy of learning

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

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

we can only engage in such a way