Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.
the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book
i really havent
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
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
kind of mythopoesis
really i want the internet
what do you mean
I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
is this you as well
i did until you asked which kind of gave it away
whats your name?
its good
so the method has to be autonomous
We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.
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.
bro i read nothing in my life
isaac newton