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

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

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

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

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

fw

as in

i dont understand magnetisation

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

autonomy of learning

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

have you read

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

whats your name?

Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl

you cannot feed someone truth

division of reality is straying away from it

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.