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

the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.


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

you have a beautiful account btw


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

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

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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

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

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?

fw

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its performative

that looks like my instagram account

division of reality is straying away from it

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

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

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models


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

think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now

you cannot feed someone truth

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

much more tactility

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

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.

so an active mazelike process

ion

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

i was tempted to lie about my name