The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
no longer writing in the third person
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
Today I felt like starting
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 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
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 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
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
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.