My Phone Doesn’t Know I’m Human
A eulogy for the real internet, a love note to the last few human posts…
May 19, 2025 • 5 min read
A thought I can’t finish. New York hums below the window — wires, rain, trains. All talking in static. Build digital ghosts, wrap them in code and feelings.Send them out to find you. This isn’t a site; it’s a pulse. Notes, experiments, and love letters for the internet. Built with ♥ & Periwinkle.
A minute of eye contact with each visitor; eight hours a day for a month.The most emotional moment came when her former lover, Ulay, appeared without warning after 22 years of no contact. The two locked eyes, Abramović blinked back tears, and — breaking her own no-touch rule — reached for his hands.
I build little tools, write essays, and test where the web still feels alive. This site is an ongoing sketchbook. If something here made you feel something, that’s the point.