i think there is a disease where someone's primary means of self-expression is the internet, & they
happen to yearn for a particular thing that feels very removed from the internet, maybe like it's
from before the internet. so they try to give a voice to that thing, & the nature of the internet
overtakes the pure nature of the thing because the internet is like an awful black ink that
swallows whatever you feed it. they wanted to have like an aesthetic "non-internet
enclave" inside the internet. & i think something like that can survive for a while but
it always might collapse at any second. then they might identify a new atavistic thing to
try to express, & it's like a masochistic treadmill of feeding things that feel very
pure into a thing that could desecrate them at any time