Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.

...

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

It Will Get Lighter

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

so the method has to be autonomous

all that is to say

It Will Get Lighter

and the fake qualifier

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

we can only engage in such a way

1

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

Rain, starting

Today I felt like starting

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

        13       |
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            H   |
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. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
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not their contents

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

currently

I Write Goodbye Letter

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.