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.

Thank you, Jack

all that is to say

It Will Get Lighter

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

Today I felt like starting

no longer writing in the third person

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

Can I see

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

currently

It Will Get Lighter

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

Picture

brb i will read and reply sincerely

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

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

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

a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext