One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

Rain, starting

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

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

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

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.

"Put a blanket."

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

division of reality is straying away from it

we can only engage in such a way

Better Lift

really i want the internet

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

i see a website

Today I felt like starting

Style

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

which magnetises chains of pins

its good

Slug

no longer writing in the third person

the site i am dreaming

we need to be deconstructing our identities

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given