After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

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.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

really i want the internet

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.

It's

dusk

brb i will read and reply sincerely

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

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

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

Thank you, Jack

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

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