Lift Analysis

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

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Rain, starting

Thank you, Jack

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

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

in a post. I want to be remembered

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

you cannot feed someone truth

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

really i want the internet

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation

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

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

autonomy of learning

I am below everything.

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.

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

abrar?

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

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