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.
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
but really the thing should be autonomous
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
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
kind of mythopoesis
Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.
Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?
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
They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
bro i read nothing in my life
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