somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

It Will Get Lighter

It's

dusk

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

Better Lift

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

i see a website

yes

Worse Lift

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

no like which do people call me

not their contents

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

1

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

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

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

all that is to say

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

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

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.

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