One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
i am quite illiterate on producing technology
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
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.
i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue
currently
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it
in a post. I want to be remembered