It Will Get Lighter

no longer writing in the third person

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

Rain, starting

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

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 see a website


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

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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.


somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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

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

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 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

but really the thing should be autonomous

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

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.