He went in there with a camera to film it before he moved out of the building. He didn't think anyone would believe the story if he didn't have proof.

"Put a blanket."

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 

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but really the thing should be autonomous

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

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

yes

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.

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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

Better Lift

so at the end

yeah

fw

not their contents

barren land