okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

yes

in a post. I want to be remembered

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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.

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

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.

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

but really the thing should be autonomous

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

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

brb i will read and reply sincerely

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

Today I felt like starting

Can I see

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.

It Will Get Lighter

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

we can only engage in such a way

division of reality is straying away from it