Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

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

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

        13       |
                |
                |
            H   |
                |
                |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

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


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


in a post. I want to be remembered

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

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

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

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

Rain, starting

A roll of 50s is one of the items he dumps onto my table during the search. Of course it is. He asks if I'm a delivery boy or a setter or this or that diamond related job. I keep saying no, I'm enjoying hearing all of these new words. Eventually I tell him that I work in film, which is kind of true. He asks where I'm filming. I'm not filming. He tells me that I can't be that good at it then. He then tells me that he made a film once, in the 80s. It was called Pimlico Rats.

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

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life