you have now entered a void space, mysteriously mapped out with text. what will you do?
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» return to the
the roots of what you found here.
is there nothing to see? will you go a different road? or do you already know where you are? either way, you will your feet to take you someplace away from this space.
[A DISEMBODIED VOICE] this goes back to the site's homepage.
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a question burns in your chest: what does it look like? what does it want? why did it put you here? you will see it - whatever it looks like. you must. and, you will it so.
[A DISEMBODIED VOICE] these lead to my about / now pages.
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reaching your hand out from the void until you feel the soft brush of a leaf, you move yourself forward. in a slow blink of an eye, a garden gently sequestered in a forest clearing appears before you. it is an almost maddening array of colors in a sea of brown bark and green pine. you silently wonder to yourself who could have tended to these flowers.
[A DISEMBODIED VOICE] this is the hypertext version of my digital garden. it is meant to be less polished compared to my garden based in quartz, found below.
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you find a box of small sprouts and scattered seeds. compared to the wild of the garden, this box gives you a sense of safety. it is tame, but it will have to do for now.
[A DISEMBODIED VOICE] the original version of my digital garden, published in quartz. this is more likely up-to-date compared to its hypertext version.
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you know exactly what this space is, and you know what it entails. your curiosity gets the better of you, and the void knows it.
[A DISEMBODIED VOICE] that's the source code baybee