that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike
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
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me
brb i will read and reply sincerely
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
"Put a blanket."
really i want the internet
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.
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.