its performative
hiding from the rain
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
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
Can I see
"Put a blanket."
really i want the internet
wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me
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.
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
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 am below everything.
yes
a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
but i respect your search
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
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.
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a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.