a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.
I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.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
idk
its good
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
which magnetises chains of pins
i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
much more tactility
no i haven't really read anything