"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

"Put a blanket."

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

Rain, starting

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

theres a kind of a cowardice to generative art that i want to avoid though. i want the kind of relationship to this thing that a game designer has to a game engine

your feed looks like my tumblr

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet