hello reader,

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.

Worse Lift

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

Lift Analysis

but really the thing should be autonomous

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

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

Better Lift

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

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

no longer writing in the third person

kind of mythopoesis

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

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