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.
no longer writing in the third person
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59
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
Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
so at the end
isaac newton
think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now
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 wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
plato