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 heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

1

Style

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.

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 see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

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

currently

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

you have a beautiful account btw

13, H, grate

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting