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
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
but i respect your search
wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
I am below everything.
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
She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.
This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.
i see a website
fw
to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos
i am quite illiterate on producing technology
i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls
okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate
what do you think my name is
we need to be deconstructing our identities
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting