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.

no longer writing in the third person

currently

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. 

        13       |
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            H   |
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something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

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

in a post. I want to be remembered

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

13, H, grate

They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.

plato

Rain, starting

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people

magnetises a pin