I am below everything.
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.
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 is hopeful
Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17
in a post. I want to be remembered
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
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.
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
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
that looks like my instagram account
send your tumblr
Lift Analysis
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