in a post. I want to be remembered

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

I'm getting bored and he can tell, so he shifts the topic towards me. He tells me he'd spotted me chatting to a girl earlier, a black girl, and asks what I thought of her, if I liked her. I mimed affirmatively.

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue

Today I felt like starting

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

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

not their contents

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation

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

Thank you, Jack

no longer writing in the third person

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

13, H, grate

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


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.

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

Picture

as in

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

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.