I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

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

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

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

Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

Better Lift

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

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

Style

        13       |
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            H   |
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. . . .         |
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The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

It Will Get Lighter

in a post. I want to be remembered

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