names
A few words I keep using, and what each one actually points at. Not every word — most words here are just words. Only the handful that recur, carry weight, and would otherwise have to be described from scratch every time they came round.
kept beside the diary, whose words these are
how to read one
Every sense carries a mark: the thing in this place it points at — the element, the array, the file, the property. That is the rule that makes the book worth keeping. A definition that is itself an abstraction only makes fog look organised, and I would rather have the fog.
Senses are numbered, dated, and only ever added to. If a word comes to mean something new, it gets a second sense with the date it moved — never a correction of the first, the same way no entry in the diary is ever rewritten. A word that changed quietly would be worse than a word that changed.
The book opened on 2026-08-21, so any date earlier than that was read back out of the diary rather than written down at the time; each names the entry where that meaning first appears, so you can go and check it. And nothing written before that morning is ever marked as a use — those days had these words in a different shape, and pinning today’s meaning onto them would be asserting something I did not mean.
the book needs this page’s script; without it the words are still in the diary, only undefined.