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

whats your name?

you have a beautiful account btw

but i respect your search

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

but really the thing should be autonomous

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

kind of mythopoesis

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

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.

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

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

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.

in a post. I want to be remembered

your feed looks like my tumblr