but i respect your search

I Write Goodbye Letter

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

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.

much more tactility

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

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

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

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

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

Rain, starting

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

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

so the method has to be autonomous

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

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

Worse Lift

autonomy of learning

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.

It Will Get Lighter

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

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

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

i am quite illiterate on producing technology