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- 09/17/26
I am back over here because something was wrong today.
when I woke up,-/
It was too much for me to be away.
Away from the house where people carry fish pieces, torn in half, over from the big table in the center island of the kitchen, out the back door, past the yard and into the lake. I hope that theres nobody there swimming but of course there is. Im sorry. ignore the fish. I don’t know how this keeps happening.
In the water I can wash my hands. the feeling sticks to me that I am a whirlpool and that the carcass will end up against my skin again.
The fish was for eating someone says. He’s in the water next to me.
“Do you know how expensive it was?”
I didnt know. I did wonder why there was a massive dead fish sitting on the table. When I tried to bring it back to the lake is when it torn in half, spilling pieces everywhere.
One piece floats up in front of us now.
“take this back so we can have it with dinner. someone will have to buy something else.”
I grab the bit of fish, about the size of my arm. Maybe I didnt properly describe earlier the size of the entire fish. it was large enough to tear itself apart, when balanced on a shoulder. into pieces that had to be picked up and carried one by one back into the lake.
And now I undo my folly. Just a bit. Bringing the piece back over to the kitchen where a man is leaning on the counter drinking a beer.
“You gotta get the rest of it”
I dont know where it is in the lake.
” well we need meat.”
okay. I can figure that out.
he carefully lifts and lowers the fish piece onto the already hot pan and it starts to sizzle.
I leave out the back door again, facing the lake. More men have joined the one in the water. they’re yelling and swimming too.
Where’ the car? Why did I even go out the back? But I dont want to have to deal with him again. I go around the side of the house, moving far enough away to see the whole side profile. I forget how large it is. The second floor juts out a little bit more than I realized before, hanging over the back porch and creating a corridor to slip unnoticed right underneath. There are many elements which I still don’t understand about this shape. On the inside it is just large rooms. The kitchen connects to a dining area which connects to a back room too. Everything is open like a hotel.
But then the outside looks almost as if it’s pretending to be older, not in the details… Up close, everything is blocky and clean. Concrete, metal and glass. But when I move further back I see little bits jutting out to make the rooms. I notice all of these separations that you can’t see on the inside. Almost as if it were put together in pieces, then smoothed over, then sharpened again and again.
I’m distracted. They were asking me to get meat. I need the car if I’m gonna drive anywhere. In the front driveway, there are people standing and talking. Hey, have any of you guys seen the car?
“Which car? We were dropped off.”
I had my car. It’s how I got here.
“I’m sorry I dont know I just got here. But how are you? It’s been so long!”
Im sorry I accidentally fucked something up. Ill catch up soon though.
I dont really care at this point where I end up. Theres no siewalk so I walk on the road. Someone must’ve taken my car on an errand or something. Which is fine I guess.
I dont think any of then have a way to reach me. So I’ll just walk for now until I figure out what to do. There wont be a shop. I know that. We are nowhere. There is nothing here. Everything has been emptied out and terraformed over. Long drivereways and hedgess obscure any sight. Someone must live here somewhere. I can see the tips of houses peeking up over the landscaping. And gates that I’m assuming can open.
It’s the party now. What did you guys do about the fish? I think you need dinner. No? Okay.
The house feels far more full. I dont know when these people got here, if they were submerged in the water, wating for the sound of music to bring them to land. Lights and dance. The house in an engine, propelling everyone to the morning. Did I hear someone say my name? No I dont think they would do that. Must’ve been someone else.
The mess was made. The engine has stopped. Bodies lay slumped on every surface. Healing the wounds from the night before. Something is wrong. Not just the surface level wrong but something deeper lingering.
I dont remember I can’t remember it’s-
Screaming at the top of his lungs as he finishes the last drop.
I dont remember more I-
I’m in a parking lot and he’s telling me to come forward. I notice the locks on the gates keeping us in.
Can we just go home?
Oh no I forget. It is not my home. It’s his. But still I say
Can we just go home?
” Yeah one second”
- 9/15/26
i am halfway through! a thought i can continue. i end the narrative with flickering lights. i stop for where i was: thought loops about me or the world. thats all. now I am 25 and 20 years older than when I was 5. 15 years older than when I was 10. 10 years older than when I was 15.
my skin sticky from standing too long. I should not punish my bones or my clothes for keeping me upright. I curse gravity for its consistency.
I stand in a room and stare towards a dozen tables.
each table calls me towards it. I say “shhhh”. And count them. In front of me are a hundred tables. they each call out to me and I am torn. I say “shhh” I need to see. I count 400 tables in front of me and ask them where we are? We are in Vegas, at the APA national championships. I look down and see that there is only the 8 ball left. I spin it! It answers “shut up already alice”. mean magic 8.
- 09/13/26
warning: mild suicidal ideation
Alice’s note! ///Hey I didn’t expect to write a history of myself but by the nature of this document, it was likely. I am taking my practice of daily writing that has always been private and making it public. I know this page is not promoted or thrown at an audience but it is possible to be found.
This is the first day of switching from my notes document to this site, just so I can feel a little more connected, less like I am intentionally alienating myself.
Below is where I started with my daily stream of consciousness writing, thinking to myself that I would just explain my process of notetaking a tiny bit. Eventually I realized that I would want to go deeper, hence this little top note +warnings///
–
Hello. so I have decided a thing. Here it is. I have historically kept personal notes documents that stay in a cloud until they mysteriously disappear. And Before that, I kept personal journals that I would hoard until I had a massive pile. And I would keep writing over old text if I ran out of space. Then I would draw and augment those texts for the future. And I wrote just to write because it was a release. And it still is a release. Each thing is still the same. I still write in my notes on google drive. Not everyday but as often as I can. I set a timer then just write for 10 or 15 minutes, talking about my dreams or whatever things I’m thinking about in the morning. Morning pages or something of the like.
This used to be one of several writing practices. I would write in school. I would write in college. I would try and write scripts even. Oh wait since I am sticking to this stream of consciousness thing (as I would for myself) I will notice that I was about to go somewhere that was incomplete. I forgot about a key detail of my practices.
Between the physical notebooks and my notes document, there was an in between time. And that in-between time still lasts to this day. I keep individual notes in google keep. I havee thousands of notes in google keep. I do not know how many notes but since I was 18, it is almost every day. At least more than 50% of days. I am 25 now so I will do a calculation. 7 ish years. and lets be conservative and say I write only 100 days a year. That would be 700 notes. So although that is probably less than the actual number, lets assume that I have approximately 700 daily notes in google keep.
At first when I started with these notes, it was an obsession. I would get stuck on thought loops and the only way out was to try and put them down somewhere. Put those thoughts down. somewhere. I started with those notebooks that I would scribble in. And I would put on each page before I went to bed: listen, be empathetic, be vulnerable. I kept that up until I went away to college and that’s when things decayed. I step away and suddenly it’s all a mess. I am not myself. I was not myself in school. I was a kid that went from a loving family and friends into a void that I did not understand. I did not feel real.
And I left school, slowly but surely, I failed myself out of college. And I am not too proud of myself and how I acted back then. I feel like I was not fully there. I had not decided to fully be present yet. I hadn’t figured out if I wanted to live or how I would go about that process.
Up until college, it had been this lovely mess. My family was this beautiful and sticky net of love that always held me close. Even my friends loved me in their own silly teenage ways. But I was getting to the point where I was stuck in thought loops too much of the time.
I realize now that I am traveling backwards. I am okay with that direction. At least backwards is a direction to choose. Back to the beginning!
These loops started far earlier than college. We have to go back and back and back. As a very very young child, I had this obsession with memory. I wanted to hold onto every single thing. I knew that it was difficult but I knew that I wanted to hold on. I would dream of being smaller than I was. Things would get distorted and augmented. I still remember that practice while in bed. I would start falling asleep and try and hold onto things that had happened when I was just too small to have a sense of things.
And so we enter school. I remember all the things. Not all of them but most. I never had a photographic memory. I’ve always had a memory deeply tied to strong emotions. I was very lucky to have many means of expression very young. My sister had a friend who’s parents where both classical guitar teachers and performers. I started lessons probably around 5 years old.
Most of the memories from this early time were positive. I would play and i would run outside. I had my guitar to play and I loved my drawings. I loved my books.
At the field museum I could experience the start of everything and the change as well. Sharks were 400 million years old. Nobody knew that. Why did nobody talk about that? Sharks are dinosaurs. Not literally but… you know what I mean. And I would get so excited to hear about the way that everything is atoms and how we would touch this and that but that it was this magic thing where each atom is so tiny and there is actually space in between. And that life started out so small. And that we are so small.
I would draw as well! I was so drawn to these books and to these creatures. I was not too good at first. I was very small… But eventually I decided on sharks. The more I dug into it the more I found. Did you know that that there are more than 300 types of sharks? Did you know that they have no bones? Did you know that they predate bones? Did you know that they can sense electrical impulses and smell blood from miles away? Jaws was not on my mind. Sharks don’t stay on the surface because they would be far too obvious! Silly movie… And I could learn the differences in the way they were shaped, which were the fastest, which were the strongest, which were the friendliest.
I still got a little excited just now thinking about sharks even though the last time I seriously researched them was probably at the age of maybe 8 or 9.
And I had many things like sharks that i could be interested in. Some things were harmless. But I am not here to talk about the harmless things. If I want to describe why I got into writing, I have to dig into things that hurt. Questions that I could not get an immediate answer to…..
-Okay I was gonna go more in depth onto things but I don’t have the energy right now. I will go and live my life! and tomorrow I will continue from where I left off!
- and so we will pivot
because I an already tired of saying nothing again and again!
If I aim for an imaginery blog to be a release, then I must imagine that I have intent. my intent here is release. my intent is silliness. my intent is to be unserious. and so I can say something and say it unseriously. the thing I say is that I get tired of serious things. but I must be unserious about saying it, because I said I would before. but now I realize that internal consistency is too serious. and so I am unserious about my claim.
thats why I say that I want to pivot. this whole website is a loop that breaks itself off at random intervals. and each time that I imagine a direction, I say to myself that I cannot be too serious.
why? because I decided. and because I want to exist in a fantasy outside of aesthetics. the least aesthetically pleasing thing that I can create is the least glamourous.
I naturally incline towards glamour. And glamour is serious. or it isnt. but I had to connect the two ideas. I think that image is more accurate to my mindset.
Or alienation. not through antisocial behavior. not through provokation. not through trangressive practices. I am seeking alienation through dullness.
Here is a page that follows no aesthetic rules. I am using a generic squarespace template with white text on black backdrop. I am not trying to write with any particular depth.
I am trying to be dull. and I am trying to be dull because I am tired of how shiny everything is. and I love being shiny. so I try to be dull.
this is the only actually descriptive thing that I have shared here. everything else was just a formula. the formula was to list some things, then to contradict something. and sometimes there would be an image.
I have always kept train of thought notes for myself. I have thousands of pages from my life since I was in high school. And yet here is my first time in several years at least putting anything close to a personal thought process online. I wanted for a moment to just end this blog because I said what is the point of this nothing?
Then I remembered that there was at least some core intent that had encouraged me into this form. That intent was to actually share something personal and without any technical or aesthetic modifications.
I honestly dont know if I will want to do this again. I understand that most people who write things are expected to understand the essay format. I do not.
I see this page as a comedy. and I only see it as a comedy because it is a release. I post pictures of multicam setups and label the actors as cameras. I list the year as being 1500 years before I remember what year I wrote down. I post a picture of a frog statue that I distorted. and a procreate pocket edit where I zoomed in on poirot’s eyes and then repeated them a lot because I was trying to figure out how many lights they were using to get the crazy reflections in his perfectly spherical eyeballs.
so it was always silly. I dont remember too much else other than random numbers. I started with the date and time, just with no spaces to make it more illegible. the I would sometimes count or just list numbers. this blog is not an arg.
I do not have the mental capacity to make an arg.
This blog is just so far the imagination of a moment of time every so often. and a way to divert myself from deciding on any micro-projects to share when I am low on dopamine. my micro-projects still get completed and then they upload to a cloud or sit on a harddrive or a page or a canvas or a finger or an anything.
I only very rarely put out anything like this text that I am posting now honestly primarily because of anxiety. It’s easier for me to feel comfortable sharing any thoughts or opinions surrounded by some sound or aesthetic. any feeling.
And I tend to get stuck in loops where I keep thinking about things I’ve said or posted or shared. and I try to work around those loops. keep working on whatever i work on. work. or something that is bright as daylight.
or sometimes I just start to count. And I count to somewhat high numbers.
It’s easiest for me to count to particularly large numbers if I think by year. I can start at 4500bc and try and make my way to today. I always realize how many blanks there are in my understanding of history. of the world or of anything.
when you count that high, it’s difficult to have thoughts about every single number. and sometimes it is jusr counting then.
I think that is where this post is leading to. It’s almost 2 am and I have nothing in the morning except to be my usual self. I have spent hopefully less than an hour here currently. part of me fills with anxiety when I think about putting this into thw world, even though that anxiety isnt tethered around one thought or idea.
so I will do what I do when I am stuck in a loop.
just as this website is stuck in a loop. I will break the loop. I will count.
oh no but wait. I have one final release. this release is the culmination of seconds worth of thought. the concept is not simple but the execution of the concept is extremely simple.
the concept is that I am a fish.
everyone thinks I am a fish. I think I am a fish. and I am a fish. and I count to a really high number.
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this is easier in my head.
- if only i knew which way to go
hm if only I knew which way to go - list
- list!
- number 2
- list item
- item
Start writing…… start writing……..
start
start writing…….. start writing.
start………… start writing. start.
- how many lights shine in these eyes?
- (no title)
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thats a good number. I like that number 135.
- _
- 08/22/26
Back to regularly scheduling
i
so thats it
yep so
i
i
i - 070000070707
BREAKIN NEWS
there will be an upwards slope! and then there wont! say congrats to all the graphs out there ! (good job) - 0817261158
by making an by making an
if an image were visible then I would have
i want to imagine that I can share pieces of my life.
and I finally feel the release of
next certainty is up. I write here rather than my own notes. today I will share actual information. just be patient.
I mentioned information before. And I like to describe things as things and words as information. get informed then.
okay now that you have experienced proper building of tension then an extremely gratifying relief, I will end the story.
And in order to end the story I must start one:
One day I sat down and genuinely had a brief desire to share a narrative. Then immediately after that I realized I have and appointment in 8 minutes. well 8 minutes is a lot of time if you dont care for being on time. The problem is that I do care. So I will care and also write this story and forger about the caring. As time went on, grammar improves drastically and you form a real bond with this character. But unfortunately, at the precise moment that the story felt like it was mocving somewhere, it ended.
- 0816260100
- ••••••——\\\\\\\ :3
- 111111
- 111111
- 111111
as I remember the chemstry, I forget what it means to know a ratio. the rarest mucus holds all secrets to light. and yet I forget it for metal. the metal carves its own line, if it can be told. - 0815261830
as the format suggests, i have decided to disappear into noodle. i will taste success if my show continues longer than spongebob or square pants.
i am that - ALICE-DVERTISEMENT
i make music videos and other stuff! email me at aliceaveryart@gmail.com if u wanna see a reel or links! aliceaveryart@gmail.com
aliceaveryart@gmail.com
aliceaveryart@gmail.com
- (no title)
—-
and —-
and also
also this and also that.
beautifully said. womderfully written. “a true quote” – quotie
- 071020260003
- my neck muscles look like this
- 0709261603
there is no image. there is none.
- 0709261553
a video capture tool that connects inwards - 0524261311
everyone is jumping around and the water is blue
- 0501620260210
this is where the information is.
organized throughout the room. it is that time of day again, I say. I guess it’s the time of day when I go to sleep.
it’s that time of the day again. I’m going to sleep.
- this is not it
- 04-22/26 18:37
as
this
is textually.
us
- 12/22/26 00:21
the image reads “the year is 1200 BC. this is stone” the image reads
antisocial
- 04/22/26//00:16//00:16
i can make sense of the numbers. they are a timecode. i know the timecode. i understand format. I never
i
- 04/22/26 00:13 04/22/26//00:13//
it is now 12:14 am. now it is 12:15. i wanted the numbers to go up but I did not expect them to. Everything is subject to.
- 04 22 26 04/22/26//04/22/26/04/22/26//04/22/26
the time is 12:11 am and I have just.
i look speaking upwards into the particular region of sky. it is easiest to communicate with my head in that direction.
- 04/21 1/ 2026
uh
ya
mhm
- 04/21/26
today is formative. and present
- 04/21/26
Today is the day that Alice is a website. It is the first day that she is a website. But is it the day that she became a website?
Maybe.
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