the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
ion
no i haven't really read anything
isaac
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
i really havent
isaac newton
and the fake qualifier
magnetises a pin
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
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.
feel you
"Put a blanket."
abrar?
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.
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
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."