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.
i am quite illiterate on producing technology
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.
lol yea
its good
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
isaac newton
have you read
isaac
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
bro i read nothing in my life
...
magnetises a pin
we need to be deconstructing our identities
i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse
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
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
I am below everything.
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.
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 see a website