currently

stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time

It's

dusk

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.

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

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

13, H, grate

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

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

He went in there with a camera to film it before he moved out of the building. He didn't think anyone would believe the story if he didn't have proof.

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

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

December 2025

the site i am dreaming

and the fake qualifier

bro i read nothing in my life

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

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.

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.

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.