somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
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.
plato
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
really i want the internet
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
"Put a blanket."
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
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
brb i will read and reply sincerely
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
you have a beautiful account btw
kind of mythopoesis
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
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03