something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

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.

or never left

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

        13       |
                |
                |
            H   |
                |
                |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

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

brb i will read and reply sincerely

in a post. I want to be remembered

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

I am below everything.

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.

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.

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

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

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

what do you think my name is

Rain, starting

Worse Lift

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos