There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
We look out over the river to a block of luxury flats built on the site of some old docks. It would be nice to live right there. Yes.
Today I felt like starting
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
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
you have a beautiful account btw
i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike
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
send link
December 2025
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
plato
i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then
the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.
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
i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason
it is hopeful
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
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.