I'm getting bored and he can tell, so he shifts the topic towards me. He tells me he'd spotted me chatting to a girl earlier, a black girl, and asks what I thought of her, if I liked her. I mimed affirmatively.
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.
you cannot feed someone truth
i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse
i see a website
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos
i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
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but really the thing should be autonomous
it is hopeful
not their contents
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason
way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it
i did until you asked which kind of gave it away