with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
"Put a blanket."
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
no longer writing in the third person
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
currently
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
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
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.
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
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
like first name
like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them