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
Can I see
you have a beautiful account btw
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
yes
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
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.
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
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
no longer writing in the third person
like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
have you read
ion
sorry i am texting like a slav
that looks like my instagram account
i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me
so at the end
but i respect your search
okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate