not their contents

It's

dusk

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

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

hiding from the rain

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

"Put a blanket."

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

Better Lift

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

we can only engage in such a way

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 see a website

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

you cannot feed someone truth

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

isaac

is everyoneback on tumblr now

all that is to say

its good

Better Lift