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

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.

really i want the internet

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

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.

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

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

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.

"Put a blanket."

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

kind of mythopoesis