to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos
i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me
not their contents
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
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.
all that is to say
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
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
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after
dusk
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation
We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river. I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the dim silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank. They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.
"Put a blanket."