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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 know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
i really havent
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
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.
December 2025
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given
autonomy of learning
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
magnetisation/form
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."