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.

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 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

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

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.

i see a website

kind of mythopoesis

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

but really the thing should be autonomous

i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

"Put a blanket."

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

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.

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

Picture

Thank you, Jack

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

that looks like my instagram account

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

ahnaf abrar