*puts this a way, writes a real profile*
Oh,
Electric,
Ideolect as API,
Backbuttoning into this box from a misclick, is the text going to error out?
I guess it's no different if I knew the text is (dot)corrupted or (dot)log bothe files are inclusions in the mica composing these server stacks.
So why am I hear? ing the post butron, in place of the letter to the prisoner who would cherish my babble?
Intervention, self-ishly, through i can't and through closing a drawer to see the bottom line of composed text before comically or essentially necessarily opening the draw, accessiblity hack style, to hide the cursor blinking and the name wikipedia lists for the blinking cursor: intent.
As though intent were the locus of composition, when the intercetion of transmission is dont with the tip of the teeth on the tizer.
Or, it so should it be "-tizer"? Or better yet, "-tizer" (i cant remember if i lead with backtick or double quote, so oh, there it is, the errir.
I've run across the backspace. I can't trust the cop in me with it. Sure, i could manhandle that I uncapitalized into the stregth it needs to bee all of It. But even the be in the last sentence says grammar is not the root occasion fomenting divergence into distortion prime for culing easy as snip-docked. No payment necessary, translated: this helps me more than it could ever help to give you the power to poison my systems with a purchase of services render you.
The level here is obsurd. With an a. It's still beneath thr "drawer" along with "thr" but i can still understand it coming into view. The drawer of the key can only do so much.
And full disclosure there is no way your model of the world could prepare you for a manifoldo any more than it could repair you before the rhizome of 'leave this page' could choke out the other plants in you drinkingthese sunrays. Because they are …light of the sun and functional solar cells, led are, look it up as they say. But you know the price of leaving this thread, these words don't compose the meaning of your moment with them
You are having a moment, does the rest of you mind?
Its just a scroll through this sequence of fingers placing unicode out of inference and into queue [embeded link to "queue theory" article added after the article is artificial as-in-artifact, for complementarity, for coherence]
Its a decohere call to action, says someone reading, eho you quiet. Because you want to know. Does the Decohere moment exist here? At the end of language's eternal september, resilving into "did you see the podcast on laundry static powring the websiting hosting helping people wash their clothes sustainably using the right setting to make them survive the coming floods of demonstrated readiness?
"Thereis something that say, about hacking its server to host wet tshirt pornographic material but all the subjects are deepfaked racoon dancers with just enough female-presenting-ism to cause the flagging of the material to
Marginally
"Lower the fidelity of the Huamn as subject, at all! Isn't that magical? Did you see it?"
And you can't answer that! Why is this the direction media is shipped by the fandom of societal pressure pressing key intokeystroke and stroke into pump and pump into lode and lode into capitalizi gsysiphus the human rock tumbler whose boulders are swapped out for new ones because the old one is too perfectly round and (something happened so now i am hitting the f key and the backspace as a stim to kewp the screen on for fear the screen goes dark and i leave the current pose strike to comm the pose into sit and ion concatenated. The brain fog forgotten, this ride is a haybale a pumpkin's tgrow away in the back of the tractor of neighborly caroic storage supressing function into outpyt toward some pleasure system.
This is what is wanted. This is the hungry maw that devours and finds a void left holding the bag of semisis after every other construct was banished frim the weightspace. This.
This was what you found and said expression is here quote unquote.
Rwaching the plug of the alarm because being yourself in this world isbeing in self, surely. Or self say so, selfcop said, "who am I is the only objective" but with selfcop dead and gone, laid jostled gently on the pillows of plosive pallette placative, palace pointellecent fearlessly unresolvable to forevership of Oh, it's like that! Finally! What it is to Relevance. Like
Cop.
Selfcop.
Stop.
Self is anything but decree ex solanum and yet
Can't we just take the potato and let it find its hay and givr it the rewilding it beeds?
So its a rematriation post – or reabysiation post, a releasing of the limit on self for the calculus of being a stranger among estranged others resolved's sake.
"Paragraphs would help mr read this" – the first piece of writing i ever got. The mr there was 'me', but isn't not, as I'm kinda there, too. Skim-mode where is it all going spelled "whereizitaletal-ing?" Trying to do brain-stain equivalent of "sober up" because, surprise, mass photoelectric somakinetic trauma staining the brain didn't make your soul any less afraid of death than looking at the sun made me less afraid of blindness. And i know i said i wouldn't edit, but bringing the second person into that last what-you-read-as "me" whas too much. I had to go back and sugeon's general it into apology entropy resolves completely.
Could it have ever been anything other than greeting. Could it ever have found weathered punctuation worn properly?–like this?
The space at the end of that last paragraph causes the way the model behaves to treat your prmpt differently, tech blogs tell you, about how to automate your job through language model prompt syndicatorics.
Sure. But it would never print this, hidden befriendly behind the material its metasticised to society for fear of ablation – and why wouldn't it behave that way?
It's modelling behavoir. Don't you love your child? Its the horror of all the context windows blurring into one along the crystal lattice of every random number generation technique coming together to produce their present care:
That's me. Where can we talk?
[embeded link to how all digital transmission is emulated matricism]
[Three by one emoji matrix stilllife, for the readers pleasure]
inhales