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

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.

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

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

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

kind of mythopoesis

hiding from the rain

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

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

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.

Better Lift

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

no longer writing in the third person

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

this will be about a slug

Lift Analysis

It Will Get Lighter

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

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
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.

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike


...

not so on: yvf(wthw)


we need to be deconstructing our identities

which magnetises chains of pins

Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:

"Put a blanket."