i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

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

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

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

fw

lol yea

division of reality is straying away from it

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

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

or never left

idk

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

currently

is everyoneback on tumblr now

i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things

propensity within someone

that looks like my instagram account

stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time

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

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

i want to do that too

feel you

there is a distinction between western-modern pedagogical systems that's like text-based as in a legal method but there is an idea of "pathshala" or "guru shissho"/ "porompora" i mean how masters relayed knowledge to the student by (oral) transmission often by memorising books. so what was taught was always interactive. knowledge was interactive, you spoke with people rather than read texts.

not their contents

what do you think my name is

autonomy of learning

thank you

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.

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