Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.
Lift Analysis
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
i see a website
kind of mythopoesis
13 |
|
|
H |
|
|
. . . . |
. . . . |
. . . . |
. . . . |
|
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.but i respect your search
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.
Better Lift
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.
you know who you are. no more time, not like
1
. way too specific.Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03