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autonomy of learning

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

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

not their contents

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

Worse Lift

2 (actually index). two is company

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

no longer writing in the third person

Thank you, Jack

A roll of 50s is one of the items he dumps onto my table during the search. Of course it is. He asks if I'm a delivery boy or a setter or this or that diamond related job. I keep saying no, I'm enjoying hearing all of these new words. Eventually I tell him that I work in film, which is kind of true. He asks where I'm filming. I'm not filming. He tells me that I can't be that good at it then. He then tells me that he made a film once, in the 80s. It was called Pimlico Rats.

After I get away from the old racist failed actor, I go to see my Korean colleague. He's just arrived in London and I want to see how he's handling the party. We'd been invited as fresh meat for some of the older, gayer attendees. We aren't aware of that.

Picture

there is a distinction between western-modern pedagogical systems that's like text-based as in a legal method but there is an idea of "pathshala" or "guru shissho"/ "porompora" i mean how masters relayed knowledge to the student by (oral) transmission often by memorising books. so what was taught was always interactive. knowledge was interactive, you spoke with people rather than read texts.

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.

My inability to confront the old racist failed actor is distracting me. I decide not to tell her about it.

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

13, H, grate

as in

He was a proper old-fashioned London geezer (cringe word, hate it, can't think of a better one, worst of all it's the correct word), kind of East Endy, kind of Real London, the kind you don't really meet but if you do it always feels like an uncanny immersive theatre experience. They're anachronistic. They only belong in the London collectively imagined by people who don't spend any time in it.