They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

It Will Get Lighter

Style

Can I see

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

i really havent

so an active mazelike process

and the fake qualifier

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

1

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.

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

lol yea

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

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.

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

...