It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.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.
much more tactility
okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate
so at the end
and the fake qualifier
autonomy of learning
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
like first name
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
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.
my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given
i was tempted to lie about my name
i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
ahnaf abrar
stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time
amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting
abrar?
i want to do that too
whats your name?
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
was it worth it
no longer writing in the third person