ion

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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.

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

"Put a blanket."

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

13, H, grate

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.

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

but really the thing should be autonomous

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

currently

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

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

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

it is hopeful

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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.

you have a beautiful account btw

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

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