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

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.


Can I see

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

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

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

kind of mythopoesis

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

Today I felt like starting

Better Lift

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

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

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

a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

abrar?

its good