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.
its performative
okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models
you cannot feed someone truth
abrar?
it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
hello reader,
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.
was it worth it
barren land
its good
My inability to confront the old racist failed actor is distracting me. I decide not to tell her about it.
which magnetises chains of pins
so magnetisation means the divine spirit acting thru u endowing you with its qualities
i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue
As I'm trying to tell my Korean colleague / fresh meat that this is abnormal, that most people in England aren't like this, the host of the party emerges from the bathroom to a roar of laughter and applause. He's a fat middle aged Frenchman and he's changed into traditional Indian dress and a turban. He looks fucking ridiculous. I try to back away, to avoid the inevitable photo of me in this moment that will one day appear to ruin my life, but everyone is crowding around, trapping me in the middle of it.
Another Frenchman pushes through the crowd to join him. He's an events organiser who I'd met earlier, and he's holding a large box wrapped in a bin bag. They're the fireworks he'd smuggled in from France the night before. They're Industrial Grade, whatever that means for fireworks.
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
propensity within someone
not their contents
Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?
i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
much more tactility
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 pretty persistent ambient hate in England, a lot of people say vile shit about Muslims or immigrants or whatever, but in my experience most people aren't actual white supremacists. They have a black friend who they get a beer with. One of the good ones. Etc.
i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying
Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:
Thank you for telling me that I'm failing to see how I'm reproducing the dynamics I'm trying to critique by only describing my Korean colleague / fresh meat and the black girl in relation to others and myself.
is everyoneback on tumblr now
yes