Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

isaac newton

you cannot feed someone truth

its good

have you read

i understand

idk

plato

its good short few pages

god being the centre magnet

its good

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

magnetisation basically means the induction of divine form unto you

i have read not even 1 book

much more tactility

thank you

i love it here

or never left

propensity within someone

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

...

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.

I Write Goodbye Letter

...

Style

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

no longer writing in the third person


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