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

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

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

i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

yes

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

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.

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

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.

I am below everything.

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

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

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

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.

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it