Better Lift

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

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.

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

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

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

Today I felt like starting

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

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it


Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

we can only engage in such a way

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

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

you cannot feed someone truth

not their contents

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ahnaf abrar

and the fake qualifier

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

isaac