plato

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

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

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

in a post. I want to be remembered

Rain, starting

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

Better Lift

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.

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

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

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

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