...
wait what is that
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.
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
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
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.
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
the site i am dreaming
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
not so on: yvf(wthw)
i am quite illiterate on producing technology
but i respect your search
way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
Thank you, Jack
but really the thing should be autonomous
in a post. I want to be remembered
She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt