its good
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike
kind of mythopoesis
a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
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.
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them
as in
you cannot feed someone truth
you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
you have a beautiful account btw
all that is to say
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 am quite illiterate on producing technology
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
much more tactility
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.