Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

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.

13, H, grate

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

It Will Get Lighter

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

        13       |
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            H   |
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. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
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there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

like first name

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

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

i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason

we need to be deconstructing our identities

i was tempted to lie about my name

feel you

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

plato

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

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

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