kind of mythopoesis
really i want the internet
i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike
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
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
in a post. I want to be remembered
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then
send link
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
the site i am dreaming
and the fake qualifier
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after
dusk
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.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.
wait what is that
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.