We look out over the river to a block of luxury flats built on the site of some old docks. It would be nice to live right there. Yes.

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

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

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

"Put a blanket."

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

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

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.

kind of mythopoesis

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

no longer writing in the third person

currently

i see a website

Lift Analysis

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.