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

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

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

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

Today I felt like starting

Lift Analysis

hiding from the rain

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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

13, H, grate

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

It Will Get Lighter

so at the end

kind of mythopoesis

in a post. I want to be remembered

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

its performative

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

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet