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.
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
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
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.
Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
in a post. I want to be remembered
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
its performative
yes
so an active mazelike process