I imagine that some lab-grown 29-year-old from Woking with a mind honed to identify individuals who fit the profile of Real Londoner (as conceived of by 50 opinion-polled racist builders and their wives in the Midlands) picks a stubborn local who can still somehow afford to live here and passes him along to some creative studio.
as in
i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls
Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl
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
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.
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
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
amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting
Can I see
so at the end
i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike
"Put a blanket."
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
propensity within someone
god being the centre magnet
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
the site i am dreaming