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

the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.

Style



i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

Worse Lift

you cannot feed someone truth

Better Lift

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

you have a beautiful account btw

yes

Picture

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

no longer writing in the third person

but i respect your search

hiding from the rain

Better Lift

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 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

really i want the internet

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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.

we can only engage in such a way

Thank you, Jack

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.