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

theres a kind of a cowardice to generative art that i want to avoid though. i want the kind of relationship to this thing that a game designer has to a game engine

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

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

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

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

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

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

It Will Get Lighter

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

Today I felt like starting

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.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

this will be about a slug

Slug

Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl

It Will Get Lighter

...

I Write Goodbye Letter

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

...

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.

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.

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

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.

not so on: yvf(wthw)

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50