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.

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

Lift Analysis

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

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

propensity within someone

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

It Will Get Lighter

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

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

you have a beautiful account btw

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

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.

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

Can I see

god being the centre magnet

sorry i am texting like a slav

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

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

thank you