I'm getting bored and he can tell, so he shifts the topic towards me. He tells me he'd spotted me chatting to a girl earlier, a black girl, and asks what I thought of her, if I liked her. I mimed affirmatively.

what do you think my name is

so magnetisation means the divine spirit acting thru u endowing you with its qualities

yeah

send your tumblr

lol yea

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

idk

propensity within someone

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?

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

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.

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

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

He was cast as the guy who gets picked up and thrown out of the poker game to set the scene before the main characters arrive. Out of Real London and into real London, a discarded prop, at this party, chatting to me.

its performative

Rain, starting

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 have read not even 1 book

And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

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