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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

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

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

i really havent

Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.

i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

was it worth it

wait what is that

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

and the fake qualifier

i see a website

Rain, starting

yes

send link

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

I Write Goodbye Letter

...

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

not so on: yvf(wthw)

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.

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