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

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

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.

Thank you, Jack

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

as in

autonomy of learning

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

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.

much more tactility

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

ion

i see a website

sorry i am texting like a slav

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

its good

It Will Get Lighter

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.

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

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

Picture

We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river.

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