I am below everything.

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

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

It's

dusk

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

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.

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

Worse Lift

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

IWGD

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

i see a website

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

its good

so an active mazelike process

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate