.net

feathers from ruins {info/manifesto}

I have been here a long time {even granted a day can equal a year when we traverse the mediums, translating organic skinchains into strings of ones and zeroes, as we slip in and out of worlds}. long enough to remember the criss-crossing pathways, the delights of getting lost, the chance encounters that had nothing to do with a follower count or a metric valuation, no reason but the joy of meeting kindred eyes beneath the stars in the dark. dangerous. fanciful. foolish. surrealist. stupid. beautiful. magical. some of you will also remember, and some of you may not.

then the hunters came. they came with trackers and they came with bright lights and they laid down concrete traps and we followed them back into the white-tile malls with barely a squeak of protest {let alone a howl} as though we were tame.

some of us did just fine (and always will). but others of us were heartbroken, became heartsick, exhausted by the shouts&screams emanating from the boxes around us, tired of being handed our dreams back covered with graffiti and woven in pale imitations of our own voices that were swallowed up by the machine, as all new mediums always are swallowed and subsumed by the machine. {we.never.learn}

this site is nothing of consequence, hand coded by a girl who is no one of consequence, discarding strange thought fragments in hypertext space that are nothing of consequence. that is one way of telling the story.

this site is a way of reclaiming something that was stolen, something that was lost, something that was given away for nothing, to no one, something that was valuable to a few, and may still one day be. it is a small haven in the postapocalyptic ruins of what we found when we came here. it is hope. and that is a part of the true story.

right now it is but a small seed. that’s okay; recovery takes a long time. a long time even in organic spheres.

thank you for your visit.

vixen phillips ; aka lilli