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i can't understand it, but somehow i want everything to be about me.

i can't understand it, but we made contact and somehow it was a hit and run.

i can't explain it, but some guy made spirals using just html and css. never mind, it's not that important.

i'll start reading an entry, say, on somebody's diary, and think, "i wonder if they're writing about me." i'll try to interpret it thusly until -- oops! -- they refer to "him" as, say, having a girlfriend. nope, not me.

we used to hang out and have fun, just like two people will do from time to time. we had nicknames, gifts (okay, well, random objects), understandings. now we don't. no apparent reason. no, i'm not talking about the person you think i'm talking about. (and, you know, i'm probably not talking about you, either.)

the internet, the web, seems to be evolving in multiple directions. some people just go for whatever works. if it looks cool, do it. whatever works, though, doesn't really always work, because some people look at the web through spectacles that aren't rose-colored, and some people don't look at the web with their eyes at all. for these people, "whatever works" breaks down, sometimes obscuring the art or information that was so carefully presented. other people make sure to make everything perfect and try to make whatever they're presenting available to every single person who might ever even think about looking at it. they spend so much time working on the presentation that they forget about the point of it -- that is, to present something.

the sad thing is that i wrote more about the last one that the first two.

and now for some silly poetry.

carry into this night the
expectations you've developed,
magnetic, onto paper poetic

is it worthwhile?
is it resolution?
intravenous solution

of social dilution

okay, it's not very silly is it?

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