IWGD

that looks like my instagram account

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

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?

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

but really the thing should be autonomous

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life


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

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

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos


"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.


It Will Get Lighter

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

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.

Rain, starting

kind of mythopoesis

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.

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