feel you

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever


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.


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

but i respect your search

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

Rain, starting

1

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

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 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.

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.

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt


kind of mythopoesis

we need to be deconstructing our identities

sorry i am texting like a slav