somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
brb i will read and reply sincerely
i am quite illiterate on producing technology
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
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
no longer writing in the third person
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
kind of mythopoesis
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
Can I see
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
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.