I remember when you went through my diary at my computer. You apologized eventually but really it continued until it was over, until you were done with it. You saw me agonize over you scrolling and didn't decided to do anything about it until the end. You were satisfied, it was "nothing you didn't already know". Maybe I'm lacking in some rich inner world that you had imagined, or maybe I'm just really open with you about my thoughts. I think half of it were letters I sent directly to you, or else letters you could detect on your own. I've thought about my letters to you, I went through my own diary as if it were that of a stranger. It was some archeological dig site for me, to understand what had happened in my own mind. I've organized it, turned it into this museum. Well, it's a collection of hyperlinks and short writings, but the hypertext format makes it feel more ~exploratory~. There's things in here you hopefullly never saw; things you probably didn't want to see. Things I didn't send you because I thought they'd be hurtful. So when you start out, I want you to look at Re-Reading Her Letters / The Blog So Far: 5/30/2025. I want to know what you think. Maybe I've looked too long. I want you to tell me what to do with the image. I've asked you before I think a couple times, and you keep telling me that the image is real, that's just how it is, but I FEEL like it's wrong. I feel like you don't like it for some reason. Anyway, this is the last time I'll ever ask you to look at the image. Written, immortalized in my own blog. Feel free to look at any of the posts, but I think this is a good starting point. Feel free to talk to me about anything on here not just that question that's burning in my mind.