ion

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

brb i will read and reply sincerely

it is hopeful

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.

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

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

It's

dusk

"Put a blanket."

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

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

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people

so the method has to be autonomous