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.

Style

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Better Lift

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

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

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

so at the end

kind of mythopoesis

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

much more tactility

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

we want to live the knowledge too live the content