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.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

currently

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

Worse Lift

It Will Get Lighter

Better Lift

Rain, starting

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.

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

It's

dusk

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

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

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

not their contents

its performative

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

you cannot feed someone truth