I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

Worse Lift

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

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

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

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

I Write Goodbye Letter

13, H, grate

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

I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank.

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful