I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

kind of mythopoesis

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

hiding from the rain

i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

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

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

Lift Analysis

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.

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

IWGD

really i want the internet

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

its good

i love it here

so at the end

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine