autonomy of learning

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

really i want the internet

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

Thank you, Jack, for telling me I'm just as bad as the characters (actually they're people, if that means anything to you) that I'm writing about.

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

much more tactility

so the method has to be autonomous

you have a beautiful account btw

think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now

we can only engage in such a way

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

ion

its good

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

i really havent

that looks like my instagram account

isaac

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

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

so at the end

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.

I Write Goodbye Letter

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

Thank you, Jack

barren land

Another Frenchman pushes through the crowd to join him. He's an events organiser who I'd met earlier, and he's holding a large box wrapped in a bin bag. They're the fireworks he'd smuggled in from France the night before. They're Industrial Grade, whatever that means for fireworks.