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

I Write Goodbye Letter

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

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

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Style

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

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

kind of mythopoesis

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

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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

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

1

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

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.

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

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

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

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

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