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

think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now

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

magnetisation/form

Rain, starting

fw

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

IWGD

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

yeah

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

13, H, grate

is everyoneback on tumblr now

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

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


thank you

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

your feed looks like my tumblr

is this you as well

i love it here


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

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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.

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.

Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

i understand