not their contents
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03
no longer writing in the third person
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08
I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.
"Put a blanket."
I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59
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.
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
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
kind of mythopoesis
Thank you, Jack