somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

kind of mythopoesis

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

in a post. I want to be remembered

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

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

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

December 2025

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.

and the fake qualifier