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.
I am below everything.
"Put a blanket."
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.
really i want the internet
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
Lift Analysis
brb i will read and reply sincerely
Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50
Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03
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