and the fake qualifier

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.

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.

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

but really the thing should be autonomous

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

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

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

bro i read nothing in my life

and the fake qualifier

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

I am below everything.

it is hopeful

yeah

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

the site i am dreaming