and the fake qualifier

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

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

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

13, H, grate

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

I am below everything.

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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

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

Rain, starting

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

Lift Analysis

but really the thing should be autonomous

        13       |
                |
                |
            H   |
                |
                |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

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

Thank you, Jack

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

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

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

yes

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.

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?

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"