I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
"Put a blanket."
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
Lift Analysis
kind of mythopoesis
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.
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
no i haven't really read anything
as in
not their contents
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
magnetisation/form
isaac newton
in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation
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.
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
i dont understand magnetisation