plato

13, H, grate

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

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

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

no longer writing in the third person

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

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

i see a website

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

yes

kind of mythopoesis

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