i was tempted to lie about my name
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me
but really the thing should be autonomous
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.
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.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
I am below everything.
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged
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
Thank you, Jack
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.