its performative

Today I felt like starting

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.


Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

Worse Lift

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.

really i want the internet

isaac newton

you cannot feed someone truth

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.

division of reality is straying away from it

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

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

in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

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.

so at the end

Thank you, Jack

propensity within someone