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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.
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
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
but i respect your search
Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after
dusk
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.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
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.i understand
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.
so the method has to be autonomous
you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak
its performative