He went in there with a camera to film it before he moved out of the building. He didn't think anyone would believe the story if he didn't have proof.
Today I felt like starting
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.
in a post. I want to be remembered
Thank you, Jack
Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
kind of mythopoesis
the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.
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
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59
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.
Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after
dusk
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41
"Put a blanket."
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
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
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.
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever