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

so an active mazelike process

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

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

so at the end

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

mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation

in a post. I want to be remembered

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

It Will Get Lighter

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.

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

        13       |
                |
                |
            H   |
                |
                |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

I am below everything.

As I'm trying to tell my Korean colleague / fresh meat that this is abnormal, that most people in England aren't like this, the host of the party emerges from the bathroom to a roar of laughter and applause. He's a fat middle aged Frenchman and he's changed into traditional Indian dress and a turban. He looks fucking ridiculous. I try to back away, to avoid the inevitable photo of me in this moment that will one day appear to ruin my life, but everyone is crowding around, trapping me in the middle of it.

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

ahnaf abrar

send link

"Put a blanket."

December 2025

is everyoneback on tumblr now

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