The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
your feed looks like my tumblr
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
i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak
lol yea
all that is to say
is everyoneback on tumblr now
like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them
division of reality is straying away from it
okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models
or never left
so at the end
to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos
magnetisation/form
fw
its performative
yeah
like first name
no like which do people call me
was it worth it
is this you as well
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.
yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
what do you think my name is
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?