One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
we want to live the knowledge too live the content
and the fake qualifier
...
all that is to say
i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
the site i am dreaming
magnetisation/form
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
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
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
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 sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then
you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak
its performative
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.Today I felt like starting
not their contents
you have a beautiful account btw
Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.
was it worth it
They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.
hello reader,