god being the centre magnet

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

kind of mythopoesis

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

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.

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

Worse Lift

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

i really havent

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

sorry i am texting like a slav

ion

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

is this you as well

or never left

i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

autonomy of learning

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.