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

kind of mythopoesis

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

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

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

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Worse Lift

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.

Lift Analysis

currently


Better Lift

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.

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

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"