and the fake qualifier
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
in a post. I want to be remembered
it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
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
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
i really havent
my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given
currently
She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
no longer writing in the third person
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
as in
bro i read nothing in my life
Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book
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