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One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

currently

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

in a post. I want to be remembered

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

really i want the internet

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.

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

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged