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.
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
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.
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
I am below everything.
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
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.like magnets
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
we want to live the knowledge too live the content
have you read
way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it
yeah