and the fake qualifier

Picture


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.

currently

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

I am below everything.

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

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.

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

in a post. I want to be remembered

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

so an active mazelike process

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.

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

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

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

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

all that is to say

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

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.

autonomy of learning

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

but really the thing should be autonomous

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

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

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.

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.