Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

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.

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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.

It Will Get Lighter

Worse Lift

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

much more tactility


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

13, H, grate

so the method has to be autonomous

not their contents

magnetisation/form

all that is to say

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

we can only engage in such a way

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

but i respect your search

you cannot feed someone truth

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation

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

division of reality is straying away from it

Picture