Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

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

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

Worse 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

I am below everything.

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.

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

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

Rain, starting

It Will Get Lighter

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

its performative

the site i am dreaming