My inability to confront the old racist failed actor is distracting me. I decide not to tell her about it.
isaac
feel you
magnetises a pin
sorry i am texting like a slav
i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason
its good
whats your name?
is this you as well
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
i have read not even 1 book
that looks like my instagram account
December 2025
was it worth it
think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now
but really the thing should be autonomous
She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.
i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things
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
the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
idk