not their contents

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

Rain, starting

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

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

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


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.


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

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

no longer writing in the third person

hiding from the rain

13, H, grate


but i respect your search

Better Lift

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

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

kind of mythopoesis

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.