in a post. I want to be remembered
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
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.
kind of mythopoesis
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
Can I see
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.
Lift Analysis
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
i see a website
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
so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged
amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting
okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate
we want to live the knowledge too live the content
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?