i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
But seriously, thank you, Jack
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
no like which do people call me
propensity within someone
as in
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
...
I am below everything.
like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them
December 2025
I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
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.
so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged