The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

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

in a post. I want to be remembered

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

division of reality is straying away from it

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

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.

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

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

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

its performative

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

Style