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.

13, H, grate

Picture

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

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

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.

        13       |
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            H   |
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. . . .         |
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. . . .         |
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Today I felt like starting

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


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.

hiding from the rain

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

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

Better Lift