and the fake qualifier

It's

dusk

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.

in a post. I want to be remembered

but really the thing should be autonomous

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

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

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

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

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

i see a website

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

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

IWGD

kind of mythopoesis

She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter