i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
I am below 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
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08
currently
Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
it is hopeful
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.but really the thing should be autonomous
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
Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
in a post. I want to be remembered