like first name

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

Better Lift

really i want the internet

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

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

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

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.

in a post. I want to be remembered

theres a kind of a cowardice to generative art that i want to avoid though. i want the kind of relationship to this thing that a game designer has to a game engine

no longer writing in the third person

but really the thing should be autonomous

your feed looks like my tumblr

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.

confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.

hiding from the rain

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.


so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged


the site i am dreaming

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.

...

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


Picture


Slug


It Will Get Lighter

bro i read nothing in my life

kind of mythopoesis