way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

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

i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

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

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

It Will Get Lighter

in a post. I want to be remembered

Worse Lift


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.

kind of mythopoesis

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

13, H, grate

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

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.