hello reader,

Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.


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

1

. way too specific.

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.


Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

not so on: yvf(wthw)

I Write Goodbye Letter

...

December 2025

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⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️

confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.
part of an old note. It will get lighter.

and the fake qualifier

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

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

lol yea

Lift Analysis

Lift Analysis

you have a beautiful account btw

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

sorry i am texting like a slav

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.

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging